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EDMOND    ROSTAND. 


LA  PRIiNCESSE  LOINTAINE 


(  THE  PRINCESS  FAR-AWAY  ) 


a  plag  in  jfouc  acts,  In  Derse 


BY 

EDMOND  ROSTAND 

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Translated  into  English  Verse 
With  a  Preface 

BY 

CHARLES  RENAULD 


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NEW  YORK 
FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


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L<^  /I   '7?U.    ^^-  ^  ^Cit-yp^ 


Copyright,  1899, 
By  Frederick  A.  Stokbs  Company 


A /I  rights  reserved. 


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PREFACE. 

**  La  Princesse  lointaine,"  indeed  a  charming  masterpiece 
of  poetry,  was,  it  now  appears,  but  a  promise.  The  promise, 
however,  was  royally  kept  by  the  poet,  Edmond  Rostand, 
within  the  short  space  of  three  years.  Witness  "  Cyrano 
de  Bergerac/'  in  which,  with  something  of  retrospective 
prophecy,  if  the  anomaly  can  be,  Roxane  exclaims  : 

*'  A  bird  will  hop  before  it  learns  to  soar." 

Let  it  be  conceded  then  that,  in  "La  Princesse  lointaine," 
the  poet  was  timidly  feeling  his  way  along,  while  in  "Cy- 
rano "  he 

*'  Walks  boldly  on,  with  step  assured." 

Hence,  perhaps,  some  discussion  of  the  play,  and  of  its 
really  great  impersonator,  Sarah  Bernhardt.  Neither  the 
poet  nor  his  far-famed  interpreter  need  be  disturbed,  how- 
ever, by  the  judgment  of  superficial  critics.  If  "  La  Prin- 
cesse lointaine  "  be  the  work  of  a  beginner,  we  can  but 
regret  that  there  are  not  a  few  more  beginners  with  so  great 
a  share  of  youth,  enthusiasm  and  talent  clearly  proving 
study  as  well  as  genius. 

In  effect,  "La  Princesse  lointaine"  offers  a  striking 
example  of  romanticism,  tempered  b}^  the  more  staid  ways 
of  the  Parnassians,  and  diversified  with  wilful  riming  odd- 
ities a  la  Banville,  while  here  and  there  appears  a  bit  of 
"decadence,"  or  "symbolism,"  in  the  form  of  an  hiatus, 
or  of  a  defective  cesura. 

As  a  play  for  the  English-speaking  stage,  so  different  from 
the  French,  where  imagination  and  word-picture,  coupled 
with  the  swing  of  high-strung  verse,  suffice  to  thrill  an  au- 


M107444 


iv  PREFACE. 

dience,  *'La  Princesse  lointaine"  would  perhaps  be  lack- 
ing in  action.  But  as  a  book,  if  the  translator  shall  have 
been  successful  in  transposing  the  intense  poesy  that  runs 
through  the  naturalness  of  expression  in  which  the  poet 
clothed  quintessence  of  feeling,  so  to  speak,  it  can  hardly 
fail  to  prove  attractive,  especially  if  it  be  taken  for  what  it 
was  evidently  meant  to  be :  the  animated  picture  of  an  un- 
daunted pursuit  of  the  ideal. 

This  work,  the  original  of  course,  might  be  classed  then 
as  a  poem,  one  that  is  intentionally  odd,  at  intervals,  or 
rather  playfully  neologistic,  with  an  innocent  desire  to  be 
picturesque  and  novel,  at  all  events  anything  but  common- 
place. Nevertheless,  it  seldom,  if  ever,  departs  from  the 
admirable  naturalness  of  expression  that  marks  French 
verse,  the  true  poetry  of  which  does  not  resort  to  unusual 
words  and  twisted  construction. 

These  wilful  oddities,  or  innovations,  the  translator,  at 
first,  intended  to  comment  on,  in  a  number  of  foot  notes. 
But,  as  this  is  not  a  text-book,  such  a  course  might  have 
seemed  pedantic.  Notes,  by  diverting  thought  into  side 
channels,  too  often  break  the  charm  there  is  in  the  even 
flow  of  possibly  pleasing  lines.  It  was  deemed  preferable, 
therefore,  in  this  instance,  not  to  obtrude  upon  the  reader 
with  a  comparatively  easy  show  of  learning,  thus  depriv- 
ing him,  or  her,  of  the  enjoyment  there  is  in  search,  dis- 
covery and  perhaps  explanation  by  one's  self. 

Oddities,  neologisms,  naturalness  and  swing,  the  trans- 
lator has  endeavoured  faithfully  to  render,  as  may  be  seen, 
he  believes,  by  those  who  do  not  judge  at  first  glance. 
This  he  trusts  that  he  may  be  permitted  to  state,  not  as  an 
excuse  for  his  shortcomings,  but  in  justice  to  the  author 
whose  truly  poetical  conception  he  has  laboured  to  inter- 
pret. 

Charles  Renauld. 

New  York,  June,  1899. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS. 


r   A. 


Cast  at  the  Theatre  de  la  Renaissance, 

Paris,  5th  April,  1895. 

Melissinde,  a  Princess  of  Orient,  Countess 

of  Tripoli, Mme.  Sarah  Bernhardt. 

Bertrand    d'Allamanon,     a  Knight    and 

troubadour  from  Provence Mr.  Guitry. 

JoFFROY  RuDEL,  Princc  of  Blaye,  a  trouba- 
dour from  Aquitaine Mr.  de  Max. 

Father  Trophime,  the  prince's  Chaplain 

Mr.  Jean  Coquelin. 

Erasmus,  the  prince's  physician Mr.  Chameroy. 

Squarciafico,  a  Genoese  tradesman '.  .Mr.  Laroche. 

The  Knight- Whose-Arms-Are-Green,  an 
adventurer  in  the  service  of  Emperor 

Manuel  Comnenus Mr.  Castelli. 

SoRiSMONDE,  lady  of  honour  to  Melissinde 

Mme.  Marthold. 
The  Skipper 
Trobaldo 
Francois 
Pegofat 
Bruno 
Bistagne 
Juan 

Marrias 
The  Pilot. 

First    Pilgrim. 

Second       " 

Third         " 

Fourth       " 

Fifth  " 

Nicholose,  valet  to  Squarciafico. 

A  Boy  Sailor. 

Mariners,  Musicians,  Slaves. 

XII  CENTURY. 


Mariners. 


LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE. 

THE  PRINCESS  FAR-AWAY. 


ACTL 


The  deck  of  a  galley  that  appears  to  have  come  a  long 
way  through  very  tempestuous  weather:  Sails  ripped, 
yards  broken,  ropes  in  a  tangle,  mast  started.  There  are 
evidences  of  fighting  having  taken  place  on  board :  spots  of 
blood,  arms  strewn  here  and  there.  Just  before  dawn. 
Grey  and  transparent  sky  growing  pale.  Stars  vanishing. 
Sea  of  a  violet  hue,  with  foggy  streaks.    Indistinct  horizon. 

By  degrees,  as  this  act  progresses,  the  light  increases. 


SCENE  L 
MARINERS:       BRUNO,     BISTAGNE,     MARRIAS,     PEGOPAT,     TRO- 

BALDO,  FRANCOIS,  ctc.    THE    PILOT,  then  the    SKIPPER  and 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

PEGOFAT  and  BRUNO  (in  the  rear). 
One.  .  .  .  two.  .  .  .  three.  .  .  .  houp! 

(Body  thrown  overboard  ;  a  splash.) 

PEGOFAT. 

It's  done  I 

BRUNO. 

Another  mate 
Who'll  never  swim  thy  roadstead,  Tripoli ! 


2'  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [scene  i. 

;        PEaoFAT  {doffing  his  cap). 
Farewell,  my  boy ! 

BRUNO. 

It  reddens.    Here  is  dawn. 

{They  come  down.) 

FRANCOIS  {ivaking  and  stretching). 
Whose  plunge  was  that? 

BRUNO. 

The  cut-throat  Andrin's. 

FRANCOIS. 

Ah! 
That  cursed  fever  I 

(after  looking  over  the  deck). 

Well,  the  sea's  been  rough ! 

BiSTAGNE  {his  cycs  aloft). 
The  wind  has,  too.    No  sheets  are  left!  .... 

BRUNO. 

Nor  tyes  ! 

FRANCOIS. 

Our  mast  is  shaky.    Better  cut  it  down. 

BISTAGNE. 

I'd  rather  eat. 

BRUNO. 

The  stores  have  given  out  I 

FRANCOIS  {rising). 
That  wound  of  mine ! 

{staggers). 

But  I  can  hardly  stand ! 
Now,  should  we  meet  another  Berber  craft, 
We'd  be  in  a  sorry  trim !  .  .  .  , 


^CT  I.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE. 

BRUNO. 

We'd  fight  the  samel 
For  we  must  reach  our  goal,  oppose  who  will  I 
Fair  warning,  then,  to  crafts  that  intervene ! 

BISTAGNE. 

When  shall  we  reach  the  Saracenic  coast? 

THE  PILOT. 

Quite  soon,  I  hope.     Bad  weather's  held  us  back  I 
Ah  I  had  I  but  that  needle  pointing  North ! 
The  needle  with  the  stone  to  rub  it !  .  .  .  . 

BISTAGNE  (shrugging  his  shoulders). 

Stuff  1 

THE  PILOT. 

No  stuff  I    Some  keep  it  safely  in  a  gourd. 
You  rub.     The  stone  for  iron  has  a  love. 
And  so  the  needle  turns  to  North.    It's  clear! 

THE  MARINERS. 

Ha!  hal— He^s  daft!— How  stupid !— Needle !  Stuff! 

PEGOFAT. 

No  needle  here !    This  cockle-shell's  enough ! 
The  weather  lifts.    Our  trial  nears  the  end. 

BRUNO. 

Indeed !    The  end  of  thirst? 

FRANCOIS. 

And  hunger,  too? 

BISTAGNE. 

WeVe  suffered  long. 

PEGOFAT. 

May  heaven  help  at  last ! 

TROBALDO  {astride  one  of  the  yards). 
A  sorry  joke  if  she  wei'o  homely! 


LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [scene  I. 

THE  MARINERS. 

No  I 
She  must  be  beautiful !— She  is!— 

TROBALDO. 

You  hear? 
She  must  be  marvellous ! 

BISTAGNE. 

And  even  more, 
My  son,  considering  what  we've  endured  I 
If  not,  let  all  beware ! 

BRUNO. 

She  must  be  grand  I 

ALL. 

She  is!    She  is! 

MARRIAS. 

Be  sure ! 

AN  OARSMAN. 

So  let  US  hope! 
For  pulling  t 'ward  a  monster  would  be  hard ! 

PEGOFAT  (laughing). 
You  thought  of  her  while  rowing? 

OARSMAN. 

Ever,  yes! 

BISTAGNE. 

Be  happy,  then!    All  princesses  are  fair! 

THE  PILOT  (shrugging  his  shoulders). 
You  speak  of  naught  but  her! 

PEGOFAT. 

Exhausted  we, 
But  look !    We  speak  of  her,  and  we  revive. 


ACTL]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTxVINE. 

THE  PILOT. 

But  will  you  even  see  this  damozel? 

BRUNO. 

The  Prince  has  sworn  he'll  take  us  all  to  Her, 
If  port  is  reached,  and  tell  her  that  it's  we 
Who  bore  him  on  to  lay  him  at  her  knees. 

THE  PILOT. 

You  think  the  Princess  then  will  speak  to  us? 

PEGOFAT. 

Perhaps.    We'll  see  her,  though,  and  that  is  much. 
All  Christian  lands  have  heard  her  beauty  praised  1 

A  SAILOR  BOY. 

Her  eyes  as  well. 

THE  PILOT  (turning  toivard  the  hoy). 
You'd  see  her  eyes? 

SAILOR  BOY. 

Of  course  I 

PEGOFAT. 

The  master ! 

{Tlie  Skipper  has  been  listening  for  a  while.) 

THE  SKIPPER. 

Yes ;  but  we  must  reacli  the  port, 
And  Prince  Joff roy  Rudel  must  live  till  then ! 

THE  MARINERS. 

What !    Is  he  worse  ?— Alas  !— 

BRUNO. 

A  dreadful  blow  I 

THE  SKIPPER. 

You  see,  they've  closed  the  quarters  that  are  his. 
His  friends  are  watching,  and  no  doubt  he  rests ! 


6  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [scene  i. 

PEGOFAT. 

But  he  was  singing  yesterday ! 

BISTAGNE. 

'Tis  strange 
How  easily  he  can  compose  a  song ! 

FRANCOIS. 

What  do  you  call  the  thing  on  which  he  plays? 

THE  PILOT  (looking  wise). 
It's  called  a  lyre. 

FRANCOIS. 

Ahl  ....  a  lyre!  ....  Well 
It  makes  a  pleasant  noise.  ... 

BISTAGNE. 

It  helps  to  row  I 

PEGOFAT. 

And  when  we  have  to  tow  it  gives  us  life. 

THE  SKIPPER. 

The  Prince's  chaplain !    Hush ! 

PEGOFAT. 

The  capelan ! 
{Father  Trophime^  patched  gown  with  many  holes, 
comes  out  from  the  poop  cabin,  consults  the  sky,  and  goes  to 
the  rear,  ivhere  he  kneels.) 

BRUNO. 

A  priest  who's  not  a  bore. 

FRANCOIS. 

He's  good  and  frank. 

BISTAGNE. 

Would  every  vicar  had  such  ample  sleeves! 

THE    SKIPPER. 

The  gleamers  there  above  are  growing  pale. 


ACT  I.  •  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  7 

BISTAGNK. 

It  dawns. 

{The  light  grows.) 

FATHER  TROPHIME  {OU  Ms  Jcfiees), 

O  Virgin  of  the  mariner, 
Who  changest  roaring  seas  to  placid  seas, 
Pray,  cause  this  skiff  to  glide  as  does  a  swan ; 
And,  if  he  live,  O  Virgin,  Lord  Rudel 
Will,  on  thy  altar  at  Tortosa,  place 
A  silver  galley  like  the  one  that  bore 
Us  bravely,  with  its  rudder,  sails  and  oars  I 

THE  PILOT. 

Who  cares  ?  ....  I'd  rather  have  my  needle ! 

BISTAGNE. 

Dolt  I 

At  all  events,  the  prayer  can  do  no  harm. 

(Erasmus  comes  out.  He  wears  a  doctor^s  goivn 
very  badly  torn.  Hair  unkempt.  Sorry -looking.  The 
sailors  assume  a  mocking  attitude.) 

BRUNO. 

But  here's  a  sight!    Behold  the  sorry  face  I 

FRANCOIS. 

The  physicol 

TROBALDO  (shrugging  his  shoulders). 
Fresh- water  doctor  he  I 


SCENE  n. 
FATHER  TROPHIME,  ERASMUS,  SAILORS,  in  the  rear. 

FATHER  TROPHIME  (going  to  Erosmus), 
Well,  Sir  Erasmus,  how's  your  patient  ? 


8  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [scene  ii. 

ERASMUS. 

Worse. 

The  Prince  is  sleeping,  watched  by  Sir  Bertrand. 

(looking  at  the  horizon). 
Well,  Father  Trophime,  well,  there's  naught  in  sight 
But  fog! 

(indigna7it). 

That,  doctor  from  Salerno,  I, 
Just  think !— should  be  exposed  to  peril  thus ! 
Where  now  are  my  cathedra,  home  and  books  ? 
Alas !    The  winds  have  torn  my  gown  to  shreds, 
And  robbed  me,  one  by  one,  of  all  my  caps !  .  .  .  . 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

The  Prince  ?  .  .  .  . 

ERASMUS. 

Why  did  this  dilly-dallyer. 
This  poet,  madly  rush  to  danger  so  ? 
Now,  when  I  joined  his  household,  gentle  Prince, 
I  meant  to  live  in  peace  beneath  his  roof, 
To  tend  his  health  on  land  and  not  at  sea. 
This  cruise  is  an  extremely  bitter  pill ! 

{walking  to  and  fro,  with  growing  fury) , 
Oh!  may  the  devil  string  upon  his  hellish  spit 
Those  pilgrims  damnable  from  th '  Orient 
Who  were  the  first  to  pass  the  castle  gates. 
One  eve,  at  supper  time,  just  as  the  knife, 
The  carver's,  sought  a  luscious  turkey's  breast, 
And,  then  and  there,  to  speak  of  Melissinde. 
They  sang— with  zeal,  oh  1  what  untimely  zeal ! 
The  daughter  of  Hodiem  and  Raymond  One ; 
They  wildly  praised  this  Asia  flower's  bloom ! 
I  still  recall  their  round, ecstatic  eyes!  .... 
They  spoke  so  well  that,  suddenly,  the  Prince, 
This  poet  daft  on  shadow,  dream  and  wind. 
Arose,  and  there  proclaimed  the  Lady  his. 


ACT  I.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE. 

Since  then,  he's  dreamed  of  Her,  and  rimed  for  Her 
Alone;  and,  now,  two  years  have  wrought  him  so 
That,  health  declining,  and  with  death  at  hand, 
He's  struggling  on  toward  the  fair  unknown, 
To  see  at  least  her  face  before  he  dies ! 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Erasmus.  .  .  . 

ERASMUS. 

His  will  be  a  briny  shroud ! 
And  this  Bertrand  d'  Allamanon  then,  who, 
While  every  one  dissuaded  Lord  Rudel, 
Extolled  his  love,  approved  his  suffering, 
Declared  this  expedition  most  superb. 
And  said  that  he  himself  would  go  along ! 
Absurd,  absurd ! — And  you,  a  priest,  are  here ! 
That  I  should  come  is  comprehensible. 
But  you !    The  chaplain  of  the  Prince !  As  if 
Your  presence  had  the  slightest  reason  in  it  I 
Of  knights  your  master  is  the  only  one 
To  sail  without  the  Cross  for  Syria, 
And,  loving  pilgrim,  on  his  lute  he  sings 
A  goal  that's  other  than  the  Holy  Tomb ! 

FATHER     TROPHIME. 

Who  knows  the  secret  ends  that  God  assigns  ? 

ERASMUS. 

We  seek  in  Palestine  a  woman's  eyes ! 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

The  Lord,  believe  me,  finds  it  proper  so. 

ERASMUS. 

The  Lord !  What  does  he  gain  for  instance  .... 

FATHER     TROPHIME. 

All! 


10  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  ii. 

ERASMUS. 

Oh! 

FATHER    TROPHIME. 

Yes,  he  gains,  at  least  my  thought  is  such, 
^  Through  every  great  disinterested  act  ; 
As  much  as  on  Crusaders'  deeds,  I  feel 
That  he  must  smile  on  love  that's  true  and  pure. 

ERASMUS. 

He  cannot  set  this  love  adventure  here 
Beside  the  rescue  of  the  Holy  Tomb ! 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

His  object's  not  this  one  deliverance. 

For  think  you  not  that,  if  he  wished  to  chase 

A  horde  of  infidels  from  off  the  Tomb, 

One  sweep  of  angel  wings  would  be  enough? 

Far  greater  his  design.    Be  sure  it  is  to  call 

All  those  who  live  in  dullness,  pride  and  sloth 

Away  from  selfish,  dark  indifference. 

To  throw  them,  strong  and  singing,  in  the  fray, 

Devotion-daft  to  seeking  death  afar, 

Inspired  by  forgetfulness  of  self. 

ERASMUS. 

Then,  what  the  Prince  is  doing  for  his  Love?  .... 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Most  certainly  will  benefit  his  soul. 
It  was  as  dead  while  he  was  gay  and  light; 
But,  now  he  suffers,  loves  and  wills,  it  lives. 
Let  each  of  us  put  forth  what  strength  we  have; 
A  The  main  thing  is  to  own  a  heart  that  beats ! 
The  Prince  has  left  behind  him  futile  loves, 
All  vice,  and  vain  amusements  of  a  court. 
How  can  you  doubt  his  bettered  sentiments? 
Great  loves,  indeed,  are  doing  heaven's  work ! 


ACT  I.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  11 

ERASMUS. 

So  be  it  I 

FATHER  TROPHiME  (lowering  his  voice). 

See  these  oarsmen  on  their  seats, 
These  mariners.    What  were  they?    Pirates,  all. 
Who  e'er  imagined  crew  more  wicked  than 
These  men  were  formerly — a  pirate's  crew? 
But  they  have  hired  out  themselves,  as  do 
Quite  often  corsairs  to  those  going  East, 
To  bear  him  to  his  Princess  Far- A  way. 
Their  captain  made  the  contract.    At  the  time, 
They  did  not  even  know  the  Princess  lived. 
But  now,  just  see,  they're  all  in  love  with  herl 

ERASMUS. 

And  you're  content? 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Delighted !  .  .  .  .  Now  their  aim^ 
Is  nobler  far  than  any  paltry  gain ! 
They  rave  to  see  the  Princess,  dream  of  her. 
With  all  their  fierceness  changed  to  gentleness. 
The  poet's  Lady  now's  a  Lady  theirs ! 
We're  bound  to  love  the  end  to  which  we  tend. 
They  want  the  Prince  to  reach  her  cherished  eyes  I 
They  like  his  love  mysterious  and  vague, 
X  For  humble  folk  admire  what  is  great. 
And  feel,  untaught,  the  poesy  of  things  1 
The  grandeur  of  the  Prince's  scheme,  that  all 
Condemn,  appeals  to  them  as  hght  itself ! 

ERASMUS. 

The  Pilot  says  it  is  insanity ! 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Less  simple-minded  he. 

ERASMUS. 

What  matters? 


12  hA  PKINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  ii. 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Much  I 
%  For  every  ray  from  the  ideal  sent 
Into  the  soul  destroys  an  evil  there. 
All  noble  aims  bring  forth  a  nobler  aim ; 
No  dream  suggests  a  dream  of  lower  flight ; 
And  thus  to-day  these  men  have  larger  hearts ! 
— You  seem  surprised  to  hear  me  so  discourse?  .... 
Yes,  I  approve  adventures  aiming  high. 
What  next  to  this  would  be  the  Argonauts'  ? 
We  have  a  lyrically  epic  skiff, 
With  verse  for  music,  and  a  poet  chief. 
With  bandits  for  a  crew  where  none  rebels, 
That  sails  toward  a  beauty  strange  and  pure, 
With  hope  no  other  than  to  be  in  time 
To  give  a  dying  man  a  glimpse  of  Her  1 
There's  but  a  single  vice :  inertia !  .  .  .  . 
And  but  one  virtue.  .  .  . 

ERASMUS. 

That? 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Enthusiasm ! 

{He  goes  up.) 

ERASMUS. 

Hum !  .  .  .  .  Well — He's  not  an  ordinary  priest.  .  .  . 

{after  some  thought). 
We'll  find  him  excommunicated  soon. 

{Bertrand,  whose  clothes  are  likewise  torn,  comes 
out  of  the  Princess  quarters.) 

BERTRAND  {tO  EvasmUS), 

The  Prince  awakes. 

ERASMUS. 

Ill  go  to  him  again. 

{He  goes  in.) 


ACT  I.  J  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  13 

SCENE  IlL 

FATHER  TROPHIME,  BERTRAND,  the  SAILORS. 

THE  SKIPPER  {to  Fegofat,  who  has  let  go  his  oar). 
Row  on ! 

PEGOFAT. 

Thi'ee  days  without  a  thing  to  eat ! 
I  cannot ! 

BRUNO  (groaning). 

Water! 

FATHER  TROPHIME   {going  to  Bevtrand  and  taking 
his  hands). 

Your  devotedness 
Is  admirable,  and  your  heart  is  brave ! 

BERTRAND. 

My  heart  is  weak  whenever  it  is  touched ; 
A  hero  passes,  and  I  follow  him ! 
I'd  be  no  Provengal  or  troubadour, 
If  I  foreswore  the  cause  of  love  ideal. 

{to  the  sailors). 
Take  courage,  friends,  we're  nearing  fast  the  port ! 

{to  Father  Trophime). 
I  was  so  weary  of  my  life  at  home, 
.    So  weary  of  revamping,  shaping  words, 
Of  doing  verses  like  enamel  work, 
As  if  I  polished  them  with  finger-nail ! 
I  was  a  sophist  vain,  with  juggler's  mind. 
While  now— I'm  of  some  little  use  at  least. 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Your  courage,  and  the  care  you  give  the  Prince.  .  .  . 

BERTRAND. 

I  love  the  prince.    But  I'm  a  poet,  and 
Perhaps  the  poem's  all  that  captured  me. 


U  LA  PKINCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  hi. 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

What  matters?    You  were  brave  and  good.    My  son, 
We  must  not  under -rate  our  every  act ! 

BERTRAND. 

Your  praise  confuses  me,  my  saintly  friend, 
For  in  my  heart  are  strong  diversities  I 
I  feel  that  I  can  rise  to  valiant  deeds, 
But  I'm  too  oft  by  impulse  led  along. 
Too  easily  perhaps  I  left  my  all, 
Enraptured  by  adventure  such  as  this. 
Those  slow  for  good  are  slow  for  evil  too  I 
Admire  not  too  much  my  lofty  flights : 
I  am  a  poet.  .  .  . 

A  SAILOR  (lying  down,  to  the  Skipper,  who  is  endeav- 
ouring to  make  him  rise). 

No  I    I'm  done. 

THE  SKIPPER  {to  Bertrand), 

Good  Sir, 
What  gives  them  strength ;  just  tell  it  once  again. 
(The  sailors  crawl  toward  Bertrand.) 

PEGOFAT. 

I'm  hungry.  Sir;  describe  her  golden  hair  I 

BRUNO. 

I'm  thirsty.  Sir ;  describe  her  eyes  again  I 

FRANCOIS  TO  BERTRAND. 

You  have  so  oft,  on  days  when  we  despaired. 
So  often  told  us  how  the  Princess  is ! 

{They  surround  him,  all  of  them  exhausted  and 
supplicating.) 

BERTRAND. 

Once  more,  then,  hear  of  all  that's  fair, 
And,  sailors,  let  your  spirits  rise ! 
The  sunlight  plays  around  her  hair, 
^  The  moonlight  dreams  within  her  eyes ! 


ACT  I.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  16 

When  through  her  tresses'  waving  shades 
Her  beauty  shines,  subdued  and  deep, 
All  men  in  love  are  renegades, 
All  mistresses  are  called  to  weep. 

A  charm  that's  real,  with  trace  so  faint, 
Makes  hers  alone  a  grace  that's  true ; 
A  grace  that  would  become  a  Saint 
Who'd  be  a  strange  Enchantress  too  I 

Her  manners  captivate  and  strike, 
Her  power  conquers  everything ; 
Her  attitudes  are  flowerlike, 
X  Her  intonations  songs  of  spring ! 

Such,  in  her  pretty  oddity 

That's  French,  but  tinged  with  Moabite, 

Is  Melissinde,  the  rarity 

That  dwells  in  Tripoli  and  light  I 

Such  is  the  one  your  hope  evokes. 
The  one  you'll  see,  if  pilgrims  tell 
The  truth  from  under  sorry  cloaks 
That  bristle  thick  with  rattling  shell ! 

{While  Bertrand  recites  the  stanzas,  the  sailors 
gradually  rise.) 

PEGOFAT. 

Say  I    How  he  speaks !    At  times  he  seems  obscure ; 
But  this  is  clear,  that  she  is  beautiful ! 

BRUNO. 

I'm  better.  .  .  . 

{They  all  shoiv  more  activity.) 

FRANCOIS  {rowing). 
Pull! 

THE  PILOT. 

How  you  excite  them,  Sir! 
I  see  we  have  all  poets  for  a  crew ! 


16  LA  PKINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  hi. 

BERTRAND. 

Rudel  and  I  make  madmen  of  them,  hey? 
But,  if  they  struggle  on,  it's  thanks  to  us. 
On  every  galley  tempest-tossed  I'd  have 
A  pilot,  but  a  poet  too,  and  first. 

PEGOFAT  {ridiculing  the  pilot). 
Especially  with  subtile  pilots  like.  .  .  . 

BERTRAND. 

This  fog  will  drag  upon  the  sea  till  when? 

THE  SKIPPER. 

Wait  for  the  sun. 

BRUNO  [pointing  to  the  pilot). 
He's  angry ! 

THE  PILOT. 

Patience !    When 
My  needle  comes.  .  .  . 

PEGOFAT. 

Well,  what?    Your  science  will 
Be  powerless.    Suppose  you  have  the  North, 
Will  that  i)revent  our  suffering  on  board? 

BRUNO. 

Will  you  replenish  thus  our  larder  here? 

FRANCOIS. 

Or  make  the  hungry,  thirsty,  sailors  drunk? 

BISTAGNE. 

Or  cause  them,  absent  here,  to  be  at  home? 

TROBALDO. 

And  will  you  spread  before  their  dazzled  eyes 
The  riches  of  the  land  we're  sailing  to? 

PEGOFAT. 

Your  North  will  never  tell  of  Princesses ! 


ACT  I.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  17 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

They're  bearing  here  the  Prince. 

{Joffroy  Rudely  pale  as  death  and  terribly  ema- 
ciated^ with  his  clothes  in  shreds,  is  brought  in  on  a 
stretcher.  Fever  makes  him  shiver,  and  his  eyes  are  un- 
naturally brilliant.) 

BERTRAND. 

Be  steady,  all  I 

JOFFROY  ^JJDWL  {in  feeble  tones). 
The  more  we  near,  the  closer  death  appears. 


SCENE  IV. 
The  same,  joffroy  rudel. 

JOFFROY. 

All  hail  to  thee,  O  day,  just  dawning  now! 

When  thou  art  spent,  shall  I  have  joined  Her? 

O  Princess  with  a  name  mellifluous : 

O  Melissinde !  .  .  .  .  whom  Emp'ror  Manuel 

Desired  for  his  Empress  Byzantine, 

Between  us  still's  a  waste  of  sinople ! 

O  flower  grown  from  glorious  Baudoin's  blood 

Shall  I  at  last  across  the  sea,  afar. 

With  golden  beach  and  silver  fringe  of  waves, 

See  happy  Tripoli  in  which  you  reign? — 

Light  vapours,  in  the  distance,  build  as  yet 

But  fancy's  palaces !— O  prison  craft ! 

Hold  death  in  check,  to  let  me,  ere  I  die, 

Inhale  at  least,  with  brine,  a  breath  of  hope, 

And  recognise,  in  distance-reaching  waft, 

The  fragrance  of  sweet  myrtles  o'er  the  seas  I 

THE  PILOT. 

You'll  have  to  wait  until  the  fog  will  lift ! 


18  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  iv. 

JOFFROY. 

Oh !  but  a  glimpse !    Then  sleep,  and  dream  of  Her  I 

PEGOFAT. 

You'll  see  Her ! 

JOFFROY. 

Thanks,  you  stout  and  valiant  voice ! 
What  ails  me  though,  oh,  God !    Until  to-day 
I  never  have  despaired !    Ah ! — Lady  mine !  .  .  .  . 
Row  on,  good  oarsmen,  for  my  soul  would  fly  1 

BRUNO. 

You'll  see  her  I 

JOFFROY. 

Bruno,  Bistagne,  Pegofat, 

Frangois  the  Remolar,  Trobaldo,  all 

WhoVe  borne  for  me  so  many  varied  ills, 

Juan  from  Portingal,  Marrias,  and 

You,  Grimoart,  you,  Luc.  .  .  .  and  others — thanks  I 

PEGOFAT. 

Be  comforted.    We're  proud  of  our  trip ! 

BRUNO. 

A  cruise  illustrious ! 

FRANCOIS. 

Indeed  it  is ! 

JOFFROY. 

You  bear  not  on  both  Csesar  and  his  lot ; 
You  have  but  this :  Joff  roy  Rudel  and  love  I 

FATHER  TROPHiME  {approacMfig), 
My  son,  be  hopeful ! 

JOFFROY  (tvith  a  faint  smile). 

Hail,  good  Father,  hail! 
{Turning  toward  Erasmus,) 


ACT  I.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  19 

Without  your  gown  or  cap,  it's  strange  to  see 
How  much  less  wise  you  look,  good  doctor  dear. 

ERASMUS. 

My  lord  I .  .  .  . 

JOFFROY  (holding  out  his  hand). 
Take  not  offense ! 

(To  Bertrand.) 

Come  near  me,  friend, 
More  brother  mine  than  if  our  flesh  were  one, 
Who  followed  me  through  generosity, 
And  thought  me  wise  when  others  found  me  daft  I  .  .  .  • 
Come,  help  me  die,  away  from  all  that's  mine. 

BERTRAND. 

Do  not  regret.  .  .  . 

JOFFROY  {eagerly). 

There's  naught  that  I  regret : 
Relations,  home  or  smiling  Aquitaine.  .  .  . 
I  die  .  .  .  .  but  love  the  Princess  Far- Away  I 

ERASMUS. 

She's  caused  our  every  ill ! ...  . 

JOFFROY. 

So  be  she  blessed ! 
I  love  grand  hopes  and  dreams  with  limit  none; 
I  envy  too  the  fate  of  Icarus, 
Who  sought  above  the  purer  breath  of  life  I 
And,  if  I  fall  to-day  as  fall  did  he, 
I  love  no  less  the  cause  for  which  I  die. 

ERASMUS. 

Such  love  remains,  for  me,  a  problem  still. 
We  cannot  love  that  which  we  never  knew? 


20  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.      •  [scene  i v. 

JOFFROY. 

We  can,  when,  with  an  eager  heart  and  high, 
We've  ceased  to  love  what  we've  too  long  posses-sed ! 

{rising  on  his  stretcher). 
Have  I  in  vain  suspended  purse  and  scarf? 
And  took  I  staff  in  vain? — But  now  my  harp ! 
Though  weak  my  voice,  if  I  can  see  her,  oh ! 
I'll  die  with  song  at  heart  and  on  my  lips ! 

(He  takes  the  harp  that  hangs  near  him,  and  he 
strikes  a  few  chords). 

I  hesitate,  and  dream  o'er  lingering  chords.  .  .  . 

My  song  the  last,  the  last!  .000  What  shall  I  sing? .... 

The  loving  lines  that  first  I  wrote  for  Her ! 

O  stanzas  first,  be  you  the  last  I  sing ! 

(He  recites  to  his  accompaniment.) 

^  'Tis  matter  commonplace 
To  be  attentive  to 
An  auburn,  dark  or  fair 

Mistress, 
When  auburn,  fair  or  dark, 
Is  captured  easily.  .  .  . 
— I  love  the  far-away 

Princess ! 

'Tis  matter  plain  enough 

To  be  a  lover  true, 

If  one  may  kiss  Her  train 

Each  day, 
Mayhap  to  find  and  press 
A  hand  that's  nothing  loth.  .  .  . 
— I  love  the  Princess  Far- 

Away. 

But  'tis  a  thing  supreme 
To  love,  though  not  beloved, 


ACT  I.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  21 

With  love  profound  and  brave, 

Ceaseless ; 
With  love  uncertain  that's 
More  noble  being  vain.  .  .  . 
— I  love  the  far-away 

Princess ! 

For  'tis  a  thing  divine 
To  love  as  fancy  bids, 
When  we  imagine,  dream, 

Or  may.  .  .  . 
Then  dream  is  all  to  us. 
What's  life  without  a  dream? 
— I  love  the  Princess  Far- 

Away ! 

{He  falls  hack  almost  lifeless,) 

My  strength  is  gone !  My  trembling  fingers  now 
Can  find  the  strings  no  more,  and  tears  prevent 
My  speech!  .  .  .  .0,  Melissinde!  ....  I  hush 
Perhaps  forever,  since  all  hope  is .  ... 

A  VOICE  {in  the  rigging). 

Land ! 
{Excitement.    Joffroy  rises  from  his  stretcher,  stand- 
ing, with  open  arms.) 

MARRIAS. 

Yes!  See! 

BRUNO. 

You're  right!  It's  land! 

FRANCOIS. 

Hurrah !  Row  on ! 

BISTAGNE. 

The  fog  concealed  it ! 


2^  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  iv. 

JUAN. 

Land  of  gold ! 

TROBALDO. 

And  hills 
Of  violet! 

PEGOFAT. 

Tripoli!  Hurrah! 

BRUNO  {running  around  as  if  wild). 
Be  calm ! 

FRANCOIS. 

It's  land!   It'sTripoh! 

MARRIAS. 

I  see  the  palms  1 

BISTAGNE. 

Not  yet  I 

FRANCOIS. 

I  see  them,  too ! 

TROBALDO. 

An  alcyon! 

PEGOFAT. 

The  beach  from  here  is  like  a  lion-skin  I 

THE    PILOT. 

It's  Tripoli,  I  calculated  well  I 

There  are  the  long  white  walls  and  stunted  trees! 

ALL. 

The  pilot's  great! 

PEGOFAT. 

Beneath  the  glowing  sky, 
The  city's  red ! 


ACT  I.]  LA  PKINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  23 

BRUNO. 

There's  a  flamingo !  See  I 

BISTAGNE. 

Let  us  embrace  I 

TROBALDO. 

And  sing ! 

PEGOFAT. 

Our  trials  cease  I 

TROBALDO. 


Land  I 

Land! 


JUAN. 


BISTAGNE. 


Port! 


PEGOFAT. 

Tripoli! 

JOFFROY. 

The  Princess!  Ah! 
{He  faints  in  the  arms  of  Bertrand.) 

THE     SKIPPER. 

And  now.  .  .  .  we'll  anchor. 

BERTRAND  (who^  with  the  aid  of  Erasmus  and  Tro- 
phime,  has  placed  again  Rudel  on  the  stretcher). 

But,  he's  dying !  Run 
Close  in  to  shore ! 

THE    SKIPPER. 

Ah !  no !    We'd  run  afoul 
Some  hidden  rock,  and  smash  this  cockle-shell, 
Or  else,  perhaps,  be  stranded  high  and  dry. 
Small  boats  will  soon  come  out  to  us. 


24  LA  PPJNCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  iv 

BERTRAND. 

His  eyes 
Are  closed. 

{To  Erasmus^  leaning  over  the  Prince,) 
He  breathes  ? 

ERASMUS. 

A  little  better,  yes. 
But  he  is  very  low. 

BERTRAND   {despa iring) . 
He  cannot  wait ! 

JOFFROY. 

You  speak  too  loud.    I  heard  the  words  you  said. 
I  knew  it,  though :  I'm  dying  I  Now  you  must, 
Must  carry  me  ashore  this  instant.  .  .  .quick  I 
For,  otherwise,  good  friends,  like  Moses,  seel 
I'll  die  while  gazing  on  the  Promised  Land  I 

BERTRAND  (aside  to  Erasmus), 
Can  we  remove  him  ? 

ERASMUS. 

No,  impossible! 

JOFFROY  {struggling). 
One  glimpse  of  Her ! 

ERASMUS  {offering  him  a  phial  of  medicine). 

We'll  stay  the  danger  first. 
Now  drink  and  rest.    And  then.  .  .  . 

JOFFROY  {to  Bertrand). 

Bertrand,  come  near. 
Oh!  bear  me  to  the  shore,  whate'er  the  risk! 
Since  I  am  lost,  you  can  without  remorse 
Allow  me  to  advance  perhaps  my  death. 
I  am  a  man  I  And  truth  is  due  to  me. 
Shall  I  be  dead  before  I  land  ? 


ACT  I.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  25 

ERASMUS. 

You  will ! 

JOFFROY. 

Oh !  help,  Bertrand ! 

ERASMUS. 

But  if  you  will  remain 
At  rest,  without  a  word,  and  calm,  you'll  cure.  .  .  . 
And  then  you'll  see  the  Lady  of  your  dreams!  .... 

JOFFROY. 

No,  no.    You  doctors  always  give  us  hope ! .  .  .  . 
Oh  I  see  her,  friend,  I  must ! 

BERTRAND  (ivitli  decision). 
You  shall  1 

JOFFROY. 

But  how? 

BERTRAND. 

You'll  see  her,  I  repeat.    I  swear  it  now ! 
I'll  go,  I'll  speak  to  her,  and  fetch  her  here  I 

JOFFROY. 

Bertrand!  .... 

BERTRAND. 

She's  not  inhuman,  I  suppose. 
You'll  have  her  here  before  the  sun  has  set. 
Be  cheerful,  then.     I'll  tell  her  of  your  love! 

JOFFROY. 

Bertrand!  .... 

BERTRAND. 

She'll  know  that,  French  and  poet  born. 
You  loved  her,  braved  the  Turks  and  tempests  too, 
A  pilgrim  seeking  Her,  another  Cross, 
And  that  you're  here,  so  ill.  .  .  . 


26  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  iv. 

JOFFROY. 

And  you  believe?  .... 

BERTRAND. 

That  she  will  come?    Be  sure !    I'll  see  to  it 

And  fast ! — Come,  there,  a  skiff,  a  boat,  a  barge ! 

Yes,  take  the  dinghy,  that  is  it ! — We'll  see 

What  she  will  answer.    Come,  be  quick !  .  .  .  The  oars  I— 

I'll  row  myself.    The  beach  is  not  so  far ! 

You'll  have  your  princess  soon.     Till  then,  be  good ! 

JOFFROY. 

Bertrand,  if  you  succeed.  .  .  . 

BERTRAND. 

No  if!    Ishalll 
She'll  have  to  come  here,  if  she  will  or  not. 

JOFFROY. 

But  can  you  even  reach  her  where  she  dwells? 
If  you  appear  in  such  a  garb  as  this? 
The  palace  guards.  .  .  . 

BERTRAND. 

'Tis  true ! 

{to  a  sailor). 

Put  in  the  boat 
My  chest  of  finery  and  arms.     Be  quick ! 

JOFFROY. 

One  moment.  .  .  .  put  this  casket  in  besides. 
My  dearest  gems !    I  offer  them  to  you : 
My  clasp,  my  collar  and  my  golden  spurs. 
A  loving  poet's  envoy  is  above 
A  king's  ambassador!    Be  splendid,  then! 
Let  nothing  hinder  you ! 

THE  SKIPPER  {to  Bertrand). 

You'll  need  a  guide; 
The  palace  is  quite  distant  from  the  port. 


ACT  I.]  LA  PKINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  27 

Inquire  in  the  first  fair-looking  house ; 
The  host  no  doubt  will  offer  you  his  aid ; 
You'll  enter  there  to  dress — and  then  proceed. 

JOFFROY. 

Oh !  tell  her  she  must  haste— or  I'll  be  gone !  .  .  .  . 

ERASMUS. 

Dear  Prince,  you  speak  too  much ;  it  weakens  you. 

JOFFROY. 

Now  I'll  be  silent.  .  .  . 

{to  Bei'trand), 

List! 

BERTRAND. 

But  you  must  rest  I 

JOFFROY. 

Be  touching,  eloquent,  inventive,  new ! 
Or  rather,  no;  just  state  the  honest  truth: 
I  love  her,  say,  and  die  for  having  sung, 
Distractedly,  that  peerless  beauty,  hers. 
As  for  the  sun  the  merry  locust  does ! 
But  I  will  die  the  prince  of  lovers,  say. 
If,  for  two  years  of  love,  I  see  her  once  I 

BERTRAND. 

Yes,    Speak  no  more. 

JOFFROY. 

I'm  silent,— but  I  think! 
You  must  not  say  it  all  no  sooner  there !  .  .  .  . 
You  must  prepare  her. — Yes,  I  hush,  I  hush! — 
And,  to  prepare  her  well,  you  might  recite 
The  stanzas  that  just  now  I  tried  to  sing. 
Yes,  that  perhaps  would  be  the  better  way 
To  let  her  grasp  my  love. 

BERTRAND. 

Trust  all  to  me. 
I'll  say  your  verse. 


28  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  iv. 

JOFFROY. 

And  you  will  say  it  well? 

BERTRAND  {With  ussumed  levity). 

Should  I  twist  one,  what  a  catastrophe ! 
Be  easy :  every  stanza'll  have  a  ring ! 

JOFFROY. 

We  may  not  meet  again.    Let  us  embrace ! 

{They  embrace,) 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

While  he  is  gone,  I'll  stay  upon  my  knees. 
ERASMUS  {aside,  to  Bertrand), 

Perhaps  he'll  last  two  days ;  or  he  may  die 
To-night ;  he  may  be  dead  an  hour  hence ! 

THE  SKIPPER  {also  aside,  to  Bertrand). 

Fair  Sir,  if  he  should  die  ere  you  return. 
We'd  hoist  the  canvas  that  is  named  the  wolf, 
The  blackened  sail  that  we,  the  corsairs,  use 
At  night.  .  .  .  when  we  object  to  what  is  bright, 

FATHER  TROPHIME  {accompanying  Bertrand). 
By  all  that's  dear,  persuade  her,  fetch  her  here ! 
Insist ! 

BERTRAND. 

I  shall.    Unless  dark  warning  flies ! 
{He  steps  over  the  gunwale,  and  descends  into  the 
boat.    The  splash  of  oars  is  heard.) 

JOFFROY. 

Now  place  me  gently  near  the  bulwark  there ! 
She'll  come,  I'm  sure. 

THE  VOICE  OF  BERTRAND  {from  the  boat). 
I  promise  you  she  will  I 
Be  silent.    Rest  till  I  return ! 

{Noise  of  oars,  decreasing.) 


ACT  I.]  LA  PMNCESSE  LOINTAINE.  29 

JOFFROY. 

I'm  sure 
He'll  bring  her  here.— A  glorious  day ! 
The  boat  is  gliding  through  a  sea  of  pink ! 
Oh !  when  Bertrand  has  promised,  he  achieves !  .  .  .  . 


BRUNO. 

Shell  come ! 

FRANCOIS. 

We'll  see  her  soon. 

PEGOFAT. 

Right  here,  on  board. 

TROBALDO. 

Among  us  all. 

{The  voice  of  Bertrand  in  the  distance). 

Be  cheerful.  .  .  .  Princess.  .  .  .  soon. 

JOFFROY. 

The  boat  proceeds.    How  calm  the  water  is !  .  .  .  . 
I  hear  no  more  the  creaking  of  the  oars.  .  .  . 
Oh!  leave  me  here.  .  .  .  I'll  have  no  other  place! 
I'll  speak  no  more.    I'm  looking — and  I  wait  I 

CURTAIN. 

END  OF  ACT  I. 


ACriL 

A  beautiful  palace-hall^  half  romance^  half  oriental.  In 
the  rear,  a  very  wide  glazed  door  opening  upon  terraces, 
beyond  which  the  sea  is  seen  blending  ivith  the  sky.  To  the 
right,  second  entrance,  a  large  open  door  shows  a  long  retreat- 
ing gallery,  with  airy  colonnades  and  playing  fountains.  To 
the  left,  a  stairway  of  porphyry  descends  from  a  heavy  golden 
door.  The  marble  floor  is  of  snowy  tvhiteness ;  it  and  the 
stairs  are  strewn  with  freshly  cut  lilies.  A  divan  with  many 
cushions.  On  the  wall,  by  the  door,  hangs  an  enormous 
battle-axe,  the  handle  of  which  is  enamelled  and  set  with 
green  gems. 


SCENJ^L 

THE   PILGRIMS. 

As  the  curtain  rises,  the  large  glazed  opening  in  the  rear 
is  closed.  A  group  of  pilgrims,  in  coarse  dress  covered 
with  shells,  holding  each  a  staff  and  long  green  palms,  is 
stationed  in  front.  These  pilgrims  speak  in  hushed  tones, 
as  if  intimidated  and  dazzled  by  what  they  see. 

FIRST  PILGRIM. 

^The  Lady  who  received  us  stays  away. 

SECOND  PILGRIM. 

And  all's  so  purely  still  that  you  can  hear 
The  crunching  of  these  lilies  under  foot. 


ACT  II.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  31 

THIRD  PILGRIM. 

Hush !  .  .  .  .  Listen !  .  .  .  .  It's  a  fountain  whispering. 

FOURTH  PILGRIM. 

Just  where  I  am,  is  not  quite  clear  to  me. 
We  crossed  how  many  halls? 

FIRST  PILGRIM. 

Some  seven. 

SECOND  PILGRIM. 

Yes. 

And  there  we  saw  some  strange  mosaic  work  I 

THIRD  PILGRIM. 

And  aviaries  alive  with  golden  birds  I 

FOURTH  PILGRIM. 

And  carpets,  cloths  and  cushions  wonderful ! 

SECOND  PILGRIM    (tO  third). 

You  noticed  that  colossal  man? 

THIRD  PILGRIM. 

The  one 
Who  sharply  stared  us  out  of  face?    I  did! 

FIRST  PILGRIM. 

Be  silent!    'Tis  the  Knight- Whose- Arms- Are-Green  I 
The  strange  adventurer.  .  .  . 

(At   this   moment    a    tall   knight,    clad   in  green 
enamelled  armor,  passes   through  the  gallery.) 

SECOND  PiLGRBi  (fo  first,  aside,  touching  him  with 
his  elbow). 

Be  still!  ....  He's  here!.  .  .  . 

THIRD  PILGRIM  {in  loiv  tonc,  looJcing  askant  at  the 
knight). 

His  helmet  bears  a  gird  of  peridots.  .  .  . 


33  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [scene  i. 

FOURTH  PILGRIM. 

The  pommel  of  his  sword's  an  emerald ! 
{The  knight  disappears) 

SECOND  PILGRIM  {shuddering), 
I  do  not  like  this  phantom  prowling  so !  .  .  . 

FIRST  PILGRIM  {resuming  his  narrative). 
Adventurer  superb  and  cruel,  who 
Is  here  to  represent  the  Emperor 
Bethrothed  to  the  Princess.  .  .  . 

SECOND  PILGRIM. 

She's  to  wed 
The  Emp'ror  Manuel? 

FIRST  PILGRIM. 

He's  jealous,  and 
He  knows  his  marriage  is  a  state  affair. 
The  Csesar  in  Byzantium  fears  attempts 
Upon  the  heart  of  the  Most  Beautiful ; 
And  so,  for  him,  this  knight  is  mounting  guard, 
Preventing  the  approach  of  any  youths, 
Unless.  .  .  . 

THIRD  PILGRIM. 

I'm  young. 

FIRST  PILGRIM. 

Unless  they're  homely  ones! 

FOURTH  PILGRIM. 

His  strength  appears  surprising.  .  .  . 

FIRST  PILGRIM. 

Terrible ! 
{showing  the  battle-ax  hanging  on  the  wall). 
There's  no  one  who  can  lift  his  battle-ax. 

SECOND  PILGRIM. 

So,  then,  that  sprightly  youth  upon  the  shore 


ACT  II.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  33 

Who  jumped  from  out  his  boat,  and  whom  we  saw, 
The  one  who  bade  some  Genoese  and  Moors 
Conduct  him  to  the  Princess, — runs  a  risk? 

THIRD  PILGRIM. 

He  cried  aloud  that  Beelzebub  himself 

Could  not  prevent  his  seeing  her  at  once. 

— He  had  the  look  of  one  who'll  persevere ! 

{For  the  last  few  moments,  the  knight  has  been 
standing  in  the  doorway  of  the  gallery.  On  hearing  the 
last  words,  he  makes  a  gesture  and  rapidly  moves  away. 
The  noise  of  his  armour  causes  the  pilgrims  to  turn  around.) 

FIRST  PILGRIM. 

He  overheard  us ! 

SECOND  PILGRIM. 

He'll  give  orders  now 
To  turn  away  that  handsome  youth.  .  .  . 

FIRST  PILGRIM  (to  second). 

OldfooII 
You  spoke  too  much  I 

THIRD  PILGRIM. 

Oh !  never  mind !    The  youth 
Stopped  on  the  way,  to  put  his  armour  on, 
Assisted  by  that  Genoese.     No  fear ! 
Old  Squarciafico's  shrewd,  and  he  will  know 
The  peril  and  how  best  to  ward  it  off. 
He'd  like  to  have  a  candidate  against 
The  Emperor  he  hates.  .  .  .  for  reasons  too. 

FIRST  PILGRIM. 

Be  still !....!  hear  the  viola  and  the  lute, 
The  Lady  who  received  us  comes. — Be  still! 


84  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  li. 

SCENE  It 
The  Same,    sorismonde,  then  melissinde. 

SORISMONDE  {appearing  at  the  head  of  the  stairs, 
before  the  closed  golden  door). 

0  pilgrims  who  retrace  your  steps  to  France, 

The  Princess  knows  through  me  your  presence  here ; 
She  knows  that,  coming  from  the  Orient, 
You  wish  to  see  her  ere  you  leave  for  home  I 

FIRST  PILGRIM. 

So  that  her  grace  refresh  our  wandering ! 

SORISMONDE. 

The  Princess  heard  not  with  indifference 
That  you  had  come  so  far  for  sake  of  her. 
And,  generous,— she's  willing  to  be  seen. 

1  left  her  now  attending  early  mass.  .  .  . 

(Sound  of  a  bell.) 
But  mass  is  over,  and  she  comes. 

A  HERALD. 

The  Princess! 
(The  golden  door  opens.     Melissinde  appears,    in 
heavy  cope  loaded  with  precious  stones  of  all  descriptions. 
On  her  forehead  is  a  braid  of  pearls.    Around  her  several 
childrenbearing  bunches  of  lilies.) 

FIRST  PILGRIM. 

Tisshel 

SECOND  PILGRIM. 

How  pure  her  unexpected  grace ! 

THIRD  PILGRIM. 

Oh !  mark  her  'mid  the  lilies  and  the  pearls ! 

FOURTH  PILGRIM. 

The  tales  we've  heard  of  her  are  true  indeed ! 
She  pales  the  lilies  and  the  Indie  pearls ! 


ACT  IL]  LA  PPJNCESSE  LOINTAINE.  35 

FIRST  PILGRIM. 

Like  Helen,  when  the  aged  men  conversed ! 

MELissiNDE  (from  head  of  the  stairs). 

So  you'll  see  France  again,  O  happy  folk ! 
And  soon,  before  your  galley,  will  appear, 
Advancing  through  an  azure  fog,  Provenge ! 
I  envy  you ! — Alas !  I'm  like  a  plant 
That  grows  beneath  a  sky  that's  strange  to  it, 
And,  feeling  that  afar's  the  motherland. 
Appears  to  bloom,  although  it  knows  its  blight  I 

(She  descends  a  few  steps.) 
And  soon  you'll  see  your  native  land  arise ! 
— My  life's  the  love  of  one  who  never  knew, 
One  who  regrets,  with  recollection  none.  .  .  . 

(She  comes  down  from  the  last  step  and  advances 
toward  the  pilgrims.) 
Already,  as  good  Christians  leaving  should, 
You  each  have  culled  the  Palm. 

{taking  lilies  from  the  hands  of  the  children) » 

Accept  you  each 
And  bear  besides  a  lily  frail  and  sweet, 
And  keep  this  lily  as  a  relic  pure. 
So  you  remember  oft  this  foreign  France ! 

(She  distributes  the  lilies.) 

A  PILGRIM. 

The  Palm  will  tell  of  rugged  roads  we  trod ; 
The  Lily '11  speak  your  beauty,  blessed  rest ! 

SECOND  PILGRIM. 

The  Palm  will  be  a  trophy  stern  and  proud; 
The  Lily,  oh !  the  smile  a  fairy  shed ! 

THIRD.  PILGRIM. 

Farewell,  O  Princess,  fairest  Lily  thou ! 

FOURTH  PILGRIM. 

A  Lily  thou  of  grace  and  slenderness. 

(Tlie  pilgrims  go  up  by  degrees.) 


36  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  hi. 

MELISSINDE. 

Farewell ! 

{The  pilgrims  retire.     They  are  heard  passing  by 
the  open  window^  toward  which  Melissinde  directs  her  steps. 
The  children  place  upon  the  table  the  lilies  that  are  left,  and 
they  strew  the  floor  with  new  flowers  to  replace  those  that 
the  pilgrims^  feet  have  scattered.) 

VOICES  OF  THE  PILGRIMS  (passing  beneath  the  window). 
Rejoice !    Rejoice  I 
{Melissinde  waves  an  adieu,  closes  the  window,  and 
comes  down.     The  children  retire.) 


SCENE  IIL 

MELISSINDE,  SORISMONDE. 
SORISMONDE. 

So  affable 
And  condescending  so !    You  were  divine, 
And  kind  more  prettily  than  ever  seen ! 

MELISSINDE. 

You  know  full  well  I'm  kind  because  I'm  dull. 
{She  nervously  loosens  her  maritle.) 
O  mantle  broidered,  gemmate,  loading  me 
With  ruby,  sardonyx  and  idocrase, 
With  jasper,  beryl  and  with  hessonite, 
With  pebbles  vain  and  shining  nothingness, 
O  mantle,  weight  that  crushest  me  to  death, 
O  gorgeous  mantle,  thou  art  cover  for 
Another  that  I  bear ;  although  unseen, 
It  drags  me  down, 

{She  allows  her  mantle  to  glide  off  her  shoulders  to 
the  floor.) 

e'en  when  th'art    cast  away ! 


ACT  II.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  37 

(She  appears  in  a  close  white  goivn.     Sorismonde 
picks  up  the  mantle.     Melissinde  hands  her  her  crown.) 
Eemove  my  pearls  and  all  this  vain  disguise. 
At  last ! 

{She  takes  a  few  lilies  from  the  table  and  places 
them  around  her  head.) 

And  now  I'm  crowned  as  I  prefer, 
With  flowers  still  enriched  with  nightly  pearls. 

{throwing  herself  upon  a  settee). 
Oh !  yes,  you  know  I'm  kind  because  I'm  dull  I 

{Silence.) 
But  is  it  being  bored  that  makes  me  kind? 
Oh !  no,  it  is  through  interest  I  gave 
Those  pilgrims  lilies  in  a  winning  way. 

SORISMONDE. 

For  what  return,  I  pray,  dear  Princess? 

MELISSINDE. 

Songs  I 
It  is  because  these  humble  people  sang 
That  I'm  to-day  the  dearest  of  the  dear, 
The  Lady  of  Rudel  the  Troubadour, 
The  object  of  a  love  miraculous ! 
This  poet  mine,  who  lives  away  in  France, 
Began  to  love  me  for  a  random  song ; 
And  well  you  know  the  welcome  heart  that's  lone 
Reserves  to  love  that  fame  has  brought  to  us ! 
The  common-place  that  binds  us  down  to  earth 
^  Has  made  me  thirst  for  love's  sublimity  I 
{pointing  toward  the  window). 
These  pilgrims,  think!  will  wander  over  France, 
And  they  will  say  of  me,  my  eyes,  my  brow, 
Poetic  things  that  lead  the  youths  to  dream.  .  .  . 

SORISMONDE. 

And  then  Rudel  will  know  of  it.    I  seel 


38  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  hi. 

MELISSINDE. 

Perhaps,  indeed,  Eudel  will  hear  of  it. 
^  An  easy  manner  for  a  distant  soul 
To  reach,  beyond  the  vastness  of  the  sea, 
A  sympathetic  soul. 

SORISMONDE. 

A  manner  chaste  I 

MELISSINDE. 

No  doubt.    I  would  exalt  in  him  the  pride 
Of  thus  adoring  me.     And  that  is  why 
I  hailed  these  people  thus.    No  kindness  great, 
But  simply  care  to  keep  my  legend  bright ! 

SORISMONDE. 

Again  you're  captured  by  this  empty  dream. 
For  me,  I'd  love  Rudel,  but  have  him  come  I 

MELISSINDE. 

I  love  his  love,  I  love  his  soul,  I  love.  .  .  . 

SORISMONDE. 

You  know  not  whom.  If  by  some  artifice, 
A  sorcerer's,  or  through  some  magic  ring, 
You  could  from  here  see  what  his  face  is  like.  .  .  • 

MELISSINDE. 

You  wish  what's  too  distinct.  .  .  . 

SORISMONDE. 

And  you  too  vague. 
Among  your  rings  why  not  a  magic  one? 
But  you  prefer  sweet  wanderings  of  thought. 

MELISSINDE. 

Yes,  in  my  gardens  that  are  moonly  pale, 
I  hear  the  breeze  among  the  myrtles  sigh.  .  .  . 
I  sail  along  the  green  and  placid  lake 
In  which  my  galley,  rich  in  ornaments, 


ACT  II.]  LA  PMNCESSE  LOINTAINE.  3'J 

Sheds  rippling  streams  of  flowers,  or  of  light. 

And,  as  the  lute  resounds  by  plectra  wooed, 

I  send  on  wings  the  verses  I  recite. 

Then,  in  this  palace  seeking  solitude, 

I'm  saddened, — and  my  sadness  has  its  worth ! — 

Or  else  I  wander  here  where  lilies  scent ; 

And  dream,  then  oping  wide  its  labyrinth, 

Compels  me  to  desert  reality ; 

And  reason  slumbers,  as,  unceasingly, 

Unceasing  fountains  softly  spout  and  splash  I 

SORISMONDE. 

We  need,  indeed,  some  spurs  and  helmets  here. 

We  need,  in  fact,  a  host  of  brilliant  knights ! 

But  what?    Your  jailer  keeps  them  off!    You  laugh? 

Tiie  man,  whatever  he  says,  is  mounting  guard 

As  would  a  demon  by  a  treasure  placed ! 

Since  he  is  here  no  stranger's  been  within. 

MELissiNDE  (laugMng), 
He's  here  to  guard,  and  not  to  scare  the  crows  I 

SORISMONDE. 

The  Emp'ror's  jealous.  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE  (shrugging  her  shoulders). 

If  he  cares  at  all. 

SORISMONDE  (sitting  on  a  cushion,  at  Melissinde's  feet). 
So,  really,  you  will  marry  this  Comnenus? 

MELISSINDE. 

Why  not?    A  husband's  not  a  lover. 

SORISMONDE. 

But 
He  bores  you. 

MELISSINDE. 

Yes,  imperially  so ! 


40  LA  PEINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  hi. 

SORISMONDE. 

He  cannot  understand  you.  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE. 

Sorismonde, 
To  no  man  am  I  more  illegible.  .  .  . 
He'll  surely  be  the  husband  I  should  have. 
One  day  I  said  how  sad  I  felt ;  he  laughed  I 
Like  others,  I  shall  find  some  pleasure  in 
The  irony  of  moral  distances !  .  .  . 
I'll  marry  Manuel,  and  so  be  free 
To  have  a  lover  immaterial. 

SORISMONDE. 

But  then  suppose,  some  day,  a  love  that's  true 

Should  storm  your  heart,  and  play  the  glutton  there  ? .  . .  . 

MELISSINDE. 

My  friend  invisible  protects  me.    No  I 

SORISMONDE. 

No  angel,  but  a  guardian-lover,  then  ? 

MELISSINDE. 

From  him  I  feel,  at  eve,  along  the  beach, 

A  flight  of  thoughts  that  reach  me  on  the  wing  ; 

And  then  I  give  the  gentle  zephyr  thanks  I 

SORISMONDE. 

You  owe  this  poet  nothing. 

MELISSINDE. 

Yes,  I  do  ! 
My  pride,  my  longings  and  my  scruples  too  ; 
My  glow  at  heart,  my  taste  for  eventide, 
My  pleasing  shudders  and  my  soothing  tears, 
The  noble,  anxious  thoughts  invading  me. 
^  I  owe  to  him  the  whiteness  of  my  robes, 
I  owe  to  him,  in  short,  my  soul,  perhaps. 


ACT  II.1  LA  PEINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  41 

SORISMONDE  {shaking  her  head). 

And  'tis  for  this  you  give  so  many  thanks  ? 
I  hate  this  love.  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE. 

And  so  do  I,  at  times. 
(She  rises.) 
The  calm's  too  deep.    A  storm  is  brewing.    Ah  ! 

(Sorismonde  attempts  to  remove  the  lilies  from  the 
table.) 

No,  leave  them  here.    I  wish  to  keep  a  bunch  ! 

SORISMONDE. 

You  live  too  much  with  lilies.    They  are  white, 
They're  proud  and  pure.    But,  then,  they  enervate. 

MELISSINDE. 

You're  right ;  strange  flowers  they,  and  treacherous. 
They  look  like  angels'  staffs,  or  thyrsi  for 
Resplendent  seraphim.     Their  fragrance  is 
Too  strong,  indeed,  and  still  too  delicate. 

(She  takes  a  bunch  and  looks  at  it.) 
You're  right,  no  doubt.    For  evil  flowers,  they  I 
Their  candour's  apt  to  breed  uneasiness. 
Their  lonely  pride's  a  grievous  counsellor, 
And  better  far  are  sunlit  roses'  smiles. 

(smelling  of  the  lilies). 
This  fragrance  !    Oh  !    What's  in  its  subtle  flow  ? 
Perversion  lurks  in  such  mysticity  ! 

(tvith  affected  frivolity). 
But  live  we  on,  and  while  away  tlie  time  I 
I've  called  that  Genoese.    Yes,  I  expect 
Sir  Squarciafico  !  .  .  .  ,    Down  to  seeking  joy 
In  things  of  virtu  and  in  pallid  silks ; 
To  wearing  out  a  day  on  new  designs, 
Or  languid  shades,  to  deck  my  cushions  with  I 

(She  has  settled  among  the  cushions.) 

SORISMONDE. 

Your  Genoese  amuses  you  with  these, 


42  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  iil 

While  you  are  so  distraught  you  notice  none 

Of  his  extortions ;  how  he  plays  his  game 

For  self  and  brother  traders,  day  by  day  I  .  .  .  • 

Oh !  artist  princes  are  a  boon  to  thieves ! 

And  so  your  tradesmen  now  are  feeling  sad 

To  lose  you,  Princess  daft  on  stirring  verse, 

Whose  eyes  are  closed,  but  fingers  open  wide  I  .  .  .  . 

They  favour  not  your  coming  marriage,  for 

They  know  the  master  that  Comnenus  is ! 

A  WOMAN  (entering). 

The  Knight- Whose- Arms- Are-Green  is  waiting  here. 
He  asks  permission  to.  .  .  . 

MELissiNDE  (shruggiug  her  shoulders) » 

He  has  it,  say. 


SCENE  IV. 

MELISSINDE,   SORISMONDE,  the  KNIGHT-WHOSE-ARMS- 

ARE-GREEN. 

THE  KNIGHT  (he  seems  concerned  and  casts  frequent 
glances  toward  the  gallery  and  the  window). 

Your  pardon.  Princess,  if  I'm  late  to-day 
In  seeking  orders. — God  be  with  you!  .... 

MELISSINDE  (smiUng), 

Thanks! 
But  what  is  with  me  most,  methinks,  is  you !  .  .  .  • 

THE    KNIGHT. 

Oh!  Madam! 

MELISSINDE. 

You  deny  your  guardianship ! 
My  orders?    Well,  perhaps  I'll  take  a  sail. 


ACT  II.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  43 

THE  KNIGHT. 

'Tis  good. 

MEUSSINDE. 

My  galley  has  its  flowers  and 
Musicians  too? 

THE  KNIGHT  (wtth  great  courtesy). 

It's  never  unprepared. 

MELissiNDE  {rising). 

Suppose  we  go  immediately? 

{to  Sorismonde), 
Go  fetch 
A  veil.  .  .  . 

THE  KNIGHT  {eagerly). 

Oh !  not  this  moment. 
{movement  on  the  part  of  Melissinde). 

Madam,  please! 
I'm  truly  grieved  to  interfere.     I  must, 
And  now  I  do  request  you  to  postpone.  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE. 

What  say  you  now?  .... 

THE  KNIGHT. 

Not  long ;  until  to-night, 

MELISSINDE. 

And  so  'twas  true? 

THE  KNIGHT. 

I'm  but  the  servant  of 
The  Emperor,  to  whom  I'm  bound  by  oath. 
To-day  I  must  be  vigilant. 

MELISSINDE  {eagerly). 
And  why? 

THE  KNIGHT. 

I've  placed  my  men-at-arms — forgive  me,  please — 
Around  this  palace.     Here  is  door  the  last, 
And  that  guard  I. 


U  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  iv. 

MELISSINDE. 

Then  I'm  a  prisoner ! 
SORISMONDE  (looMfig  out  of  the  window). 
I  see  around  a  host  of  slaves  in  arms ! 

MELISSINDE. 

My  servants?  .... 

THE  KNIGHT. 

Now  are  under  lock  and  key. 
(pointing  to  the  gallery). 
Moreover,  Princess,  since  I'm  watching  here, 
You  could  not  send  them  word. 

MELISSINDE. 

A  grand  exploit ! 
I^m  an  enchanted  princess  now,  it  seems ! 
It's  getting  quite  amusing,  Sorismonde. 
Just  think,  my  dear!    We're  living  a  romance! 
— But  what  has  happened?    Why? 

THE  KNIGHT  (bowing). 

1  must  not  say ! 
(He  goes  up  a  little,  and,  on  the  point  of  retiring,  stops.) 
You  know  that  tradesman,  money  lender's  here ; 
That  Genoese,  more  Jewish  than  a  Jew.  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE. 

Oh!    Squarciafico? 

THE  KNIGHT. 

Yes.    I'll  authorize 
His  showing  you  his  goods,  if  you  desire. 

MELISSINDE. 

Indeed !    You  condescend  not  to  forbid 
My  letting  in  dear  Squarciafico !    Thanks ! 

THE  KNIGHT. 

Receive  him  then,  dear  Madam — while  I'm  here. 

(exit). 


ACT  II.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  46 

SORISMONDE. 

A  pleasant  thing  to  be  an  Emp'ror's  bride  I 

MELISSINDE. 

But  what  has  happened? 


SCENE  F. 

MELISSINDE,      SORISMONDE,     SQUARCIAFICO,    followed    by     his 

valety   NiCHOLOSE,  who  carries  in  a  bale  of  goods, 

the    KNIGHT-WHOSE-ARMS-ARE-GREEN,     with 

folded  arms,  on  the  threshold. 

SQUARCIAFICO   (obsequious,    nimble,    voluble^    and 
slyly  keeping  his  eye  on  the  Knight). 

Ever  beautiful ! 
The  very  smile  of  Love  itself  is  her's ! 

{to  his  valet,  who  is  opening  the  bale  of  goods) . 
Yes,  Nicholose,  you  may  spread  out  the  goods.  .  .  . 

(to  Melissinde,  with  a  bow). 
Youll  see  a  host  of  things  quite  unsurpassed  I 

MELISSINDE. 

Your  wealth  is  growing,  then ! 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

O  saints !    I'm  poor  I 

MELISSINDE. 

'Tis  false !    YouVe  rich,  like  all  our  Genoese  I 

O  you  who  seek  your  gains  in  Palestine, 

Bear  not  the  Cross,  but  sequins  on  your  breast ! 

'Tis  wealth  you'd  snatch  from  the  Crusade.    For  shame  I 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

The  glory's  for  the  Franks ! 

MELISSINDE. 

The  profit  yours  I 


46  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [scene  v. 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

Not  SO !    We  lose,  although  we're  favoured  by 
Saint  George !    Tolls  everywhere.    Our  very  blood ! 
They've  shorn  us  of  the  ovens  and  the  mills ! 

{cotjbxiyigly). 
We'll  get  them  back? 

MELISSINDE. 

We'll  see. 

SQUARCIAFICO  {pointing  to  some  bags)* 

These  bags  are  full 
Of  exquisite  perfumes !  .  .  .  . 
(unrolling  some  rugs). 

See!    Persian  rugs! 
At  Ascalon  they  succor  trade,  and  there 
We  get  each  year  one  hundred  gold  besants. 

(coaxingly). 
That's  handsome !    Do  the  same  for  Tripoli ! 

MELISSINDE. 

We'll  see! 

SQUARCIAFICO  (presenting  a  casket). 
You  like  this  casket? 

MELISSINDE. 

Yes,  I  do. 

SQUARCIAFICO  (on  Ms  Tcnees  undoing  his  goods). 

A  Moussoul  golden  cloth !    Gulf  pearls,  and  myrrh 
From  Araby !    Here's  Afric's  ivory !  .  .  .  . 

(in  low  tone). 
Be  silent !    I  shall  whisper  soon.    Then  list ! 

(Movement  by  Melissinde. — Aloud), 
Brocade ! 

(in  low  tone). 


ACT  II.]  LA  PKINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  47 

A  youth  is  roaming.  .  .  . 

{aloud,  puffing  and  turning  the  stuff). 

Quiet  shades !  .  .  .  . 
(in  low  tone). 
Around  the  palace. 

MELissiNDE  {aside). 
Understood ! 

SQUARCiAFico  (aloud). 

Some  spice  I  .... 
(aside). 
He's  kept  without, 

(aloud). 
Some  amber? — Smell  it,  please! 
(a^ide). 
He  seeks  to  speak  to  you. 

(alovd). 
Some  Tyre  silks  I 

MELISSINDE  (]iow  tone). 
No  name? 

SQUARCIAFICO  (lowtoue). 

No.    He's  a  poet,  I  believe. 

MELISSINDE  (loith  an  outcry  quickly  repressed). 
Ah !  .  .  .  .  Ah !    This  scarlet,  what  a  feast  to  see  I 

SQUARCIAFICO  (loic  tone). 
You  can  invent  no  way  to  let  him  in? 

MELISSINDE  (low  tonc). 

Not  one  I 

SQUARCIAFICO  (aloud), 
Egyptian  linen,  fine  and  soft? 

MELISSINDE  (loiv  tone). 
He  comes  from.  ... 


48  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [scene  v. 

SQUARCiAFico  (low  tone). 

France,  and  has  just  landed  now. 
He  looks  the  Grecian  shepherd  and  the  king ! 
— But  will  this  spy,  this  jailer  never  go? 

(aloud). 
Some  spices  here  from  Kiss-Ben-Omiral 

MELissiNDE  (low  tone). 
He'll  not.    He  stays,  as  fable  dragons  do  I 

SQUARCIAFICO  (aloud). 

Some  incense  from  the  king  of  Axumites. 

(low  tone). 
The  case  is,  said  the  youth,  a  pressing  one. 
To  see  you,  he  would  fight  a  hundred  men ! 

MELISSINDE  (low  tone). 
Well  then? 

SQUARCIAFICO  (aloud). 

Some  calamus? 

(lotv  tone). 
He'll  blow  his  horn, 
And  if  he's  not  admitted,  he  will  storm 
The  place ! 

(aloud). 

Arabian  balm,  all-powerful ! 
On  any  wound,  it  stops  the  bleeding  short !  .  .  .  . 

(rising  and  offering  her  a  small  bag). 
And  from  Provence,  a  treat  for  gentle  teeth 
To  crush,  here  are  some  golden  hazel-nuts ! 

MELISSINDE. 

I'm  satisfied  and  buy  the  lot.    Begone! 

(aside). 
It  seems  as  if  his  horn  were  blowing  now ! 

SQUARCIAFICO  (folding  up  his  goods). 
I'll  shortly  have  some  other  things  to  show. 

(Melissinde,  hy  a  gesture^  shows  impatience.) 


ACT  II.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  49 

I'm  going  I .  .  .  . 
{coaxingly). 

And  you'll  do  away  with  tolls? 

MELISSINDE. 

No  doubt ! 

SQUARCIAFICO  (JoW  tonc). 

Another  Paris !    Dazzled  1 1 
(aloud,  coaxingly). 
The  subsidy?    You'll  grant  it  to  us? 

MELISSINDE. 

Yes  I 

SQUARCIAFICO  (speaJcing  to  himself). 

I  think  I've  been  what  we  may  call  astute 
In  linking  thus  my  lot  to  this  young  man's. 
Ha,  ha !  this  may  not  suit  Sir  Manuel !  .  .  .  . 

(turning  on  the  threshold  and  boiving  gracefully). 
One  hundred  gold  besants  a  year  is  good ! 

(Exit, — The  Knight  follows  him  out.) 


SCENE  VL 

MELISSINDE,      SORISMONDE,     the7l     the     KNIGHT  -  WHOSE-ARMS- 

ARE-GREEN. 

MELISSINDE  (to  Sorismonde). 

You  heard  the  tale? 

(Sorismonde  makes  an  affirmative  sign.) 

This  youth! This  poet! 


SORISMONDE. 

Yes! 
You  seem  disturbed  a  bit. 

MELISSINDE. 

Disturbed,  I? 
Why,  no  I 


so  LA  PEINCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  vi. 

SORISMONDE  (avchly). 
Are  feelings  with  you  dull  as  once? 

MELissiNDE  (throwing  herself  upon  a  sofa). 
Why  not?    Speak  not  so  lightly !  .  .  .  . 

{Horn  heard  in  the  distance). 

There's  the  horn ! 

SORISMONDE  (at  the  window). 
It's  he !    He  sounds  the  horn  to  say  he  comes. 

MELISSINDE  (reclining,  with  indifference). 
What  matters? 

SORISMONDE. 

But  his  looks  are  passing  good ! 

MELISSINDE  (shrugging  her  shoulders). 
How  can  you  see  so  far? 

SORISMONDE. 

I  see  him  well. 
He  calls ;  and  men-of-arms  are  coming  out. 
He's  reached  the  gate ! 

MELISSINDE. 

It's  no  concern  of  mine  I 
(silence). 
Well,  after  all,  how  fares  he  at  the  gate? 

SORISMONDBl. 

The  soldiers  stop  him  there. 

IklELISSINDE. 

Defenseless  child  I 
He  turns? 

SORISMONDE. 

Oh !  no,  he  fights. 
MELISSINDE  (rising  on  her  elbow). 
What!  Can  it  be? 


ACT  II.]  LA  PBINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  &1 

SORISMONDE 

He  strikes  them  down !    He  passes !    Virgin !    Saints ! 
He's  now  before  the  second  of  the  doors ! 
He  fights ! 

MELissiNDE  (moving  to  rise). 
Indeed ! 

SORISMONDE. 

Oh !  what  a  dash  is  his ! 
(The  horn  sounds  closer.) 
You  hear  him  sound  his  horn  I 

MELissiNDE  (on  her  feet). 

Like  Roland,  then. 

SORISMONDE. 

Hell  pass. 

MELISSINDE  (at  the  window  behind  Sorismonde). 
He  passes ! 

SORISMONDE. 

Now  he  falls ! 

MELISSINDE. 

He's  up  I 

SORISMONDE. 

His  lance  is  broken  I 

MELISSINDE. 

But  he  draws  his  sword  I 
Oh!    God! 

{She  falls  hack.) 

SORISMONDE. 

What  now? 

MELISSINDE. 

His  eyes!    I  caught  his  eyes! 
Just  now  he  raised  them,  and  he  saw  me  I 


52  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  vi. 

SORISMONDE. 

Good! 
As  in  a  tournament,  your  sleeve  to  him ! 

MELissiNDE   {mounting  on  the  window-sill^  tearing 
off  her  sleeve  and  holding  it  aloft). 

Strike  hard,  brave  Knight !    Here  is  my  sleeve  of  white ! 
I  order  you  to  change  its  colour  here ! 
Your  blood  be  spared !    Make  theirs  in  rivers  run  I 
You  have  my  silver  samite,  pure  as  snow, 
Now  dye  it  red,  and  bring  it  me!  .... 
(She  throws  her  sleeve,) 

THE  VOICE  OF  BERTRAND. 

I  shall! 
{tumult^  clash^  then  silence), 

MELISSINDE  (coming  down). 
He's  hewed  his  way  within !  .  .  .  . 

(Sorismonde  closes  the  window.     Silence,) 

All  noise  has  ceased.  .  . . 
All  still.  .  .  .  What  sought  he  here? 

SORISMONDE  (pointing  to  the  gallery), 

'  Oh!  look! 
{A  slave  enters  from  the  gallery^  covered  with  bloody 
sivord  in  hand,   his  clothes  in  shreds.    He  speaks  to  the 
Knight.) 

THE  KNIGHT. 

'Tis  well ! 
(He  takes  his  battle-axe,  and,  with  tranquil  courtesy, 
turns  to  Melissinde.) 
By  your  permission,  I  will  close  the  door. 

{He  closes  the  door.     The  pushing  of  bolts  is  heard. 
Silence.) 

MELISSINDE. 

What  are  we  to  expect?    Oh!  breathless  fear  I 

{A  noise,  growing  nearer,  is  heard  in  the  palace.) 


ACT  II.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAlNE.  53 

He  comes ! — The  Knight- Whose- Arms- Are-Green  is  there, 
And  he  will  kill  him  with  that  axe  he  has ! — 
A  child  like  him  could  never  fell  the  brute ! — 

{Noise  behind  the  door.     Clash). 
They've    met!  ....  How    long    it    lasts!   ....  They 

struggle  on !  .  .  .  . 
Now  shuffling  feet ! 

(Dead  sound), 
A  fall! 
(Silence.     The  door  opens.     She  backs.) 
....  Now  open  doors ! 
(Bertrand  appears  in  the  dooricay^  sicord  in  hand, 
wounded  on  the  forehead.  He  ihrotvs  at  the  feet  of  Metis- 
sinde  her  sleeve  noiu  soaked  in  blood.) 

MELissiNDE  (still  backing). 
Sir  Knight  I  ....  What  would  you  say  to  me? 

BERTRAND. 

Some  verse  I 


SCENE  VIL 

MELISSINDE,  BERTRAND,  SORISMONDE. 

BERTRAND  (bending  the  knee). 

'Tis  matter  commonplace 

To  be  attentive  to 

An  auburn,  dark,  or  fair 

Mistress, 
When  auburn,  fair,  or  dark 
Is  captured  easily.  .  .  . 
— I  love  the  far-away 

Princess  I 

'Tis  matter  plain  enough 
To  be  a  lover  true, 


5i  LA  PRINCE3SE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  vii. 

If  one  may  kiss  Her  train 

Each  day, 
Mayhap  to  find  and  press 
A  hand  that's  nothing  loth.  .  .  . 
— I  love  the  Princess  Far- 

Away! 

MELissiNDE  (continuing). 

But  'tis  a  thing  supreme 
To  love,  though  not  beloved, 
With  love  profound  and  brave, 

Ceaseless, 
With  love  uncertain  that's 
More  noble  being  vain.  ... 
— I  love  the  far-away 

Princess ! 

For  'tis  a  thing  divine 
To  love  as  fancy  bids, 
When  we  imagine,  dream, 

Or  may.  .  .  . 
Then  dream  is  all  to  us. 
What's  life  without  a  dream? 
— I  love  the  Princess  Far- 

Away ! 

BERTRAND. 

You've  heard  the  lines? 

MELISSINDE. 

Through  minstrel  more  than  one. 

BERTRAND. 

You  know  who  wrote  them? 

MELISSINDE. 

Yes,  Joffroy  Rudel. 

BERTRAND. 

His  love  so  strange  has  touched  you  then,  perhaps? 


ACT  II.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  55 

MELISSINDE. 

Oh !  speak  of  him !    You Ve  chosen  well  the  time  I 

BERTRAND. 

You  know  the  faithfulness  and  fervent  zeal 
That  mark  his  love?  .... 

MELISSINDE. 

I  love  his  love.    And  oft. 
As  gently  broke  the  wave  upon  the  sand, 
I've  heard  in  it  the  voice  of  love  that's  true; 
And,  as  the  shades  of  eve  succeeded  light, 
I've  felt  in  me  the  soul  of  such  a  love !  .  .  .  . 


BERTRAND  {faintly), 
O  bliss! 

MELISSINDE  {leaning  down  over  Mm), 

You're  happy? 

BERTRAND. 

Very  happy.    Yes! 
For  he But  strength  is  leaving  me.  .  . 

MELISSINDE. 


He  faints. 


Help,  Sorismonde! 

SORiSMONDE  {running  up  to  her). 

Yes,  Princess !  .  .  .  .  Lay  him  here. 
{They  lay  him  on  some  cushions.) 

MELISSINDE  (distracted). 
Run !    Haste !    Some  water  I    Get  the  ewer  I    Quick ! 

SORISMONDE  {on  her  knees  by  Melissinde  and  Ber- 
trand,  holding  the  ewer). 

How  pale !  ....  He  looks  like  an  Olympian  god ! 

MELISSINDE. 

His  forehead  bleeds. — A  cloth! 

{She  tears  off  the  muslin  that  protects  her  throat.) 


56  LA  PRIInCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  vn. 

SORISMONDE. 

Your  neckerchief  I 

MELISSINDE. 

His  heart  is  beating  'neath  the  ciclaton ! 

— Balm  Arabic !    Be  quick !    It's  powerful  I 

Oh !  gently !    See,  he's  going  to  revive ! 

— Beware  you  soil  his  ermine,  his  pelisse ! — 

Be  careful !    His  revival  must  be  slow. 

His  hair!    '  Tis  thus  they  wear  it  in  Provence. — 

Now's  a  return  of  colour  to  his  cheek ; 

He  breathes !    His  eyelids  and  his  lips  have  moved ; 

He  gently  pressed  my  hand ! 

SORISMONDE. 

He's  better,  much  I 

IVIELISSINDE. 

His  eyes  have  moved !    And  now  he  opes  them  wide ! 

BERTRAND  {opening  his  eyes  and  seeing  her). 

I  dream !    I'm  Flor,  and  sweet  Blanchefleur  is  she ! 
Or  else  my  wound  has  been  a  mortal  one, 
And  I  am  now  awake  in  paradise. 

MELISSINDE. 

Oh !    Sorismonde  1 

SORISMONDE. 

He's  better,  I  repeat. 

BERTRAND  (Ms  head  on  the  sleeveless  arm  ofMelissinde), 

I  cannot  recollect.  .  .  .I'm  still  so  faint.  .  .  . 
This  arm  against  my  cheek.  .  .  . 

{Movement  of  Melissinde) . 

Oh!    leave  it! 

MELISSINDE. 

Yes! 


ACT  II.]  LA  PEINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  57 

BERTRAND. 

Oh !    burning  coolness  of  this  arm  unknown, 
This  arm  so  sweetly  bare ! 

MELissiNDE  {eagerly  withdraiving  her  arm). 

'Tis  true,  it's  bare ! 

BERTRAND  {rising,  to  Alelissinde). 
Who  can  you  be? 

MELISSINDE. 

Do  you  forget,  Sir  Knight? 
The  one  to  whom  you  came  with  news  to  give. 
But  suddenly  you  fell  and  fainted  here ! 

BERTRAND  {falling  back). 
Oh!    No!    You're  not  the  Princess? 

MELISSINDE  {smilzng). 

Yes,  I  am  I 

BERTRAND. 

If  you ! . .  .  but  then ! .  .  .  the  Princess ! .  . .  —Cruel  fate ! 
And  I ! .  .  .  Great  God  I  . . .  Make  haste,  the  hour  flies, 
It  flies  I  .  .  . 

{He  tries  to  get  up,  and  staggers.) 

The  window.  .  .  .  look,  for  I  cannot ! 

{Melissinde  opens  the  rear  window,) 
What  see  you? 

MELISSINDE. 

Flowers  and  a  terrace. 

BERTRAND. 

Then? 

MELISSINDE. 

The  sea. 

BERTRAND. 

And  on  the  sea,— oh !  God,  I  faint  I — 
And  on  the  sea  you  find  a  galley?    Look ! 


58  LA  PKINCESSE  LOINTAINE.       [scene  vii. 

MELISSINDE. 

A  small  and  clumsy  craft  that's  distant,  yes, 
At  anchor, — and  arrived  since  yester  eve! 

BERTRAND. 

It's  ours !    And  at  the  peak? 

MELISSINDE. 

Some  swallows  rest. 

BERTRAND. 

And  on  the  yard  no  sail  that's  black? 

MELISSINDE. 

Some  wings, 
Some  halcyon  wings  of  purest  white ! 

BERTRAND. 

In  time  I 
Oh !  Madam,  haste !— Now,  Virgin,  hear  me !  Pray, 
Prolong  his  life,  so  that  he  leave  the  world 
But  after  seeing  her !    He'll  die  content ! 

MELISSINDE. 

See,  Sori;3monde,  his  eyes  are  full  of  tears! 

BERTRAND. 

He'll  die  content!— All  flowers'  flower  she. 
The  star  of  stars !    And  dream  itself  will  be 
Outstripped  I    And  every  pang  of  grief  endured, 
All  bitter  thoughts  will  vanish  with  the  past. 
When  he  shall  see  the  light  upon  her  brow. 
And  contemplate,  as  quivers  lash  of  gold. 
Her  eyes  of  grey,  of  blue  and  violet ! 
I  see  the  one  he  never  saw  but  loved, 
And,  oh !    I  feel  he,  too,  must  see  her— must ! 
— Alas  I    We  dare  not  even  bear  him  here ! 
Come ;  be  a  vision  to  this  moribund 
Whose  dying  moments  will  be  heavenly. 


ACT  II.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  59 

If  on  such  beauty  he  may  close  his  eyes ! 
Do  not  withdraw  in  haughtiness  as  now ! 
Be  not  again  the  Princess  Far- Away ! 
Come,  Princess  with  a  name  meUifluous, 
So  he  shall  know  in  life  what  heaven  is, 
So  he  shall  have,  upon  his  sorry  craft. 
The  sweetest  and  the  most  desired  death ! 

MELissiNDE  (who  has  been  falling  back  each  time  he 
was  advancing). 

You  speak  of  whom? 

BERTRAND. 

Of  this  Joffroy  Rudel 
Whose  dying  moment  has  arrived,— of  him 
Whose  love  you  said  you  loved.    He  breathes  his  last ! 
Make  haste !    I  promised !  .  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE. 

But.  .  .  .  but  you,  Sir  Knight, 
Who  are  you  then? 

BERTRAND. 

Bertrand  d'  Allamanon, 
His  brother,  friend.  .  .  .  Come  on  then  quickly  I 

MELISSINDE. 

No! 

CUBTAIN. 
END  OF  ACT  XL 


ACT  III. 

Same  set  as  in  Act  II.  In  the  rear,  the  wide  window  is 
open.  Scorching  aftermoon.  The  marble  floor  is  strewn  no 
more  with  lilies,  but  with  red  roses. 


SCENE  L 

BERTRAND,  SORISMONDE. 
SORISMONDE. 

I  said,  cost  what  it  might,  you'd  speak  to  her. 
She  hesitates.    She'll  see  you.    She  may  not. 
Be  hopeful ! 

BERTRAND. 

^    Time  is  pressing ! 

SORISMONDE  (moving  her  head  in  doubt,  and  going 
up  to  the  window). 

A  romance ! 
{She  looks  out.) 

BERTRAND  {with  suppressed  voice). 
The  sail? 

SORISMONDE, 

Is  white  as  ever  on  the  mast. 
— Now,  on  the  port,  as  if  in  grief  profound, 
The  servants  of  the  Knight- Whose- Arms- Are-Green 
Are  taking  their  departure.    And  their  ship, 
With  heavy  oars,  is  cleaving  through  the  sea. 


ACT  III.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  61 

Oh !  when  Byzantium  sees  this  galley  come 

With  dismal  freight,  this  vanquished,  lifeless  Knight, 

And  when  his  janissaries  tell  the  tale, 

The  Emp'ror's  wrath  will  be  most  violent ! 

BERTRAND  (lost  in  a  dream). 

How  stern  became  at  once  her  eyes  so  soft  1 
So  hasty  her  refusal,  why? 

(to  Sorismonde). 

Say  why  I 

SORISMONDE  (evasively). 
Who  knows? 

BERTRAND. 

But  why  refuse? 

SORISMONDE  (seeing  the  golden  door  open). 

She  comes  1 

BERTRAND. 

Be  kind, 
And  say  to  her.  .  .  . 

SORISMONDE  (leading  him  out). 

Stay  in  this  gallery. 
(Melissinde  appears ;  slowly  and  sighing^  she  descends 
the  stairs,) 


SCENE  IL 

MELISSINDE,   SORISMONDE. 
MELISSINDE. 

Come,  Sorismonde,  and  listen  to  me,  dear.  .  .  . 
I  wonder  how  you  judge  what's  taken  place. 

SORISMONDE  (evasively). 
Oh!  well.  .  .  . 


62  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [scene  ii. 

MELISSINDE. 

My  anger  and  refusal,  why? 
Some  coming  storm  unnerved  me,  I  suppose. 
But  I  have  burned  a  candle  and  I've  prayed. 
Was  there  a  reason  for  refusing  thus? 
Did  I  appear  to  act  ill-humouredly, 
Or  else  as  if  some  disappointment, ...  No  I 
There  really  was  no  reason.    Am  I  right? 

SORISMONDE. 

You  know  there  was  a  reason. 

MELISSINDE  (frightened). 

Lower,  please! 

SORISMONDE  {smiling,  after  a  short  silence). 
Be  not  alarmed,  for  what  I  mean  is  this : 
You  almost  dread,  instinctively,  to  see 
The  one  you  loved  in  a  resplendent  dream 
Now  lowered  to  a  sad  reality. 
With  wildly  searching  eyes,  with  bluish  lips. 
And  shrivelled  hands  that  fever  burns  and  wets. 
You  would  retain,  for  all  the  days  to  come, 
A  nobler  picture  of  a  nobler  love, 
By  seeing  not  the  poet  in  his  shroud. 

MELISSINDE  {eagerly). 

Oh !  thanks !— That  is  the  reason,  only  that  I 
And  that  is  why  I  answered  strangely :  No  1 
— You  may  admit  Sir  Knight  d'  Allamanon, 

SORISMONDE  {smiUng), 
What  for,  since  you  refuse? 

MELISSINDE. 

I  do  refuse.  .  .  . 
My  soul  upbraids  me  though  for  cowardice, 
And  I  would  give  this  dying  man  the  joy 
Of  knowing  that  Bertrand  has  done  his  best. 


ACT  III.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  63 

SORISMONDK. 

Your  duty's  such. 

MEUSSINDE. 

He  may  arouse  me  from 
My  selfish  dream,  perhaps,  .  .  .  .if  he  insists. 

{Sorismonde  goes  to  the  gallery  and  makes  a  sign, — 
Bertrand  appears,     Sorismonde  withdraws,) 


SCENE  III. 

BERTRAND,  MEUSSINDE. 
BERTRAND. 

For  this  be  thanked !    I  see  you  once  again  I 
Insist,  and  still  insist  I  must  and  shall : 
The  sail  is  white,  Jeffrey  Rudel's  alive  I 

MELissiNDE  (seated  among  the  cushions^  languidly). 

Perhaps  he's  not  so  ill  as  you  were  told. 

BERTRAND. 

Oh !  speak  not  thus !    This  hour's  granted  me 
So  that  I  may  convince  your  heart. 

MELISSINDE. 

Then  plead! 

BERTRAND. 

This  morning,  here,  I  was  transfixed  and  dumb  I .  .  . 

The  dazzling  vision  fled  so  rapidly, 

It  flung  at  me  so  wickedly  that  :  **  No ! " — 

Though  kind  and  gentle  with  me  otherwise — 

That  all  might  well  have  seemed  a  cheating  dream, 

If  through  the  air  a  penetrating  scent. 

Effusion  of  the  tissues  that  you  wear, 

A  fragrance  such  as  Cleopatra  left. 

Perfuming  Eastern  cities  as  she  passed, 

Had  not  remained  in  floating  subtlety. 


64         '  LA  PEINCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  hi. 

MELissiNDE  {smiUng,  holding  out  her  ivrist  on  which 
hang  some  small  jewelled  scent-boxes). 

The  perfume  that  you  mean  mtust  be  no  doubt 
The  scent  of  amber  and  of  sandal-wood 
Contained  in  golden  trinkets  that  I  wear, 
You  see,  upon  my  arm. 

(Bertrand  kneels  and  kisses  her  hand,) 

Is  this  it?— Say! 

BERTRAND  {whose  voicc  shows  that  he  is  moved). 
It  is,  but  made  more  heavenly  by  you. 

MELISSINDE  (as  he  is  about  to  rise). 
Since  you  implore,  remain  with  bended  knee. 

BERTRAND  (ow  his  knccs). 

Oh!  how  can  I,  so  mean,  describe  Rudel? 
^  This  spirit  gentle,  wide,  this  tender  soul, 
This  love  for  you,  this  marvellous  romance ! 
Am  I  of  these,  to  you,  fit  spokesman? 

MELISSINDE. 

Speak  I 
— ^You  love  him? 

BERTRAND. 

I  revere  and  love  him,  yes. 
When  he  arrived  among  us,  pale  and  wan, 
His  end  approaching,  doctors  said,  and  when 
I  knew  that,  sailing  t'ward  a  certain  death. 
This  dying  lover  of  a  queen  unknown 
Sought  nothing  but  to  see  her  ere  he  died, 
A  sudden  admiration  fired  me. 
I  went  to  him. 

MELISSINDE  {eagerly). 
And  quickly  won  his  heart? 


ACT  III.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  65 

BERTRAND. 

At  once  I  loved  him  and  espoused  his  dream, 
Became  his  pupil,  friend  and  brother,  too. 
Though  disapproved  by  all — misunderstood — 
I  followed  him.  .  .  . 

IklELISSINDE. 

Oh !  that  was  really  well ! 

BERTRAND. 

The  sea  to  us,  at  first,  was  motherlj'-, 

And  while  t'ward  you  we  gently  glided  on, 

From  rosy  morn  to  tawny  setting  sun, 

He'd  hear  me  speak  the  verse  he  wrote  for  you. 

MELISSINDE. 

Of  course  you  spoke  it  well !    Your  voice  is  rich  I 

BERTRAND. 

No  doubt  that  Roland  loved  his  beauty  Aude, 

Tristan  Iseult,  and  Flor  his  Blanchefleur ; 

But,  oh !  Rudel  loved  more  his  MeUssinde ! 

He  carried  love  beyond  the  verge  extreme ! 

Oh !  would  you  knew  his  tears,  and  prayers,  and  fears, 

When  nightly  I  was  watching  by  his  side  I 

MEUSSINDE. 

'Twas  ever  you  who  watched  him  through  the  night? 

BERTRAND  (standing,  lyrically). 

Can  I  describe  the  strife,  O  woman,  of 

This  dying  man  toward  a  smile  of  yours? 

But  storms  arose ;  the  galley  laboured  so 

That  we  despaired  of  ever  reaching  port. 

Our  cockle-shell  was  battered  by  the  waves 

Till  it  was  like  the  one  Ulysses  had. 

But,  strong  in  faith,  the  dying  poet  lived, 

His  dream  and  mine  becoming  that  of  all ! 

At  times  a  lull.    Some  land  would  tempt  us  then, 


66  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  hi. 

An  island  smiling  and  inviting  us. 

We'd  wish  to  go  ashore  for  flowers  there, 

But  he'd  refuse,  and  onward  'gainst  the  winds 

We'd  start  again.    Then  sudden  calms  would  fall 

And  make  us  row.     A  Turkish  galley  next 

Was  met,  and  fought,  and  sunk.     And  on  we  rowed ! 

We  had  more  ills  in  store,  for  hunger  came ; 

The  looks  of  all  aboard  were  spectre-like. 

Our  masts  were  trunks,  and  fringes  our  sails. 

No  hope !  Rudel  was  doomed ! — A-  sudden :    Land ! 

MELissiNDE  {shuddering). 
Oh !  when  I  think  these  perils  great  were  thine  1 1 

BERTRAND  {surprised)^ 
What!  mine? 

MELISSINDE   {eagerly^  endeavouring  to  reclaim  her 
words). 

Yes,  thine,  for  him !    Oh !   let  me  note 
Thy  merit,  and  for  him  be  grateful  here  I 

BERTRAND. 

O,  Princess! 

MELISSINDE, 

Why  be  modest  to  a  point 
That  thou  will'st  not  allow  thy  heart  to  speak? 
Thou  wert  a  loyal  knight,  a  trusty  friend.  ,  ,  . 
I'll  order  now  my  galley  to  be  manned.  .  ,  . 
....    I  come.  ...    I  come.  ... 

{3Iovement  by  Bertrand.) 

But  not  another  word !  .  .  ,  , 

{She  vanishes  much  disturbed.) 


1  See  Note,  Page  77. 


ACT  III.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  67 

SCENE  IV. 
BERTRAND,  the  SQUARCIAFICO. 
BERTRAND. 

She's  coming! — Her  refusal  was  a  game!  .... 
And  is  it  that,  e'en  with  the  dying,  they 
Must  ever  prove  how  feminine  they  are? 
Or  must  they  else,  most  cruel  in  their  art, 
Bring  joy  to  moribunds  with  shrewd  delay? 
{Turning  toward  the  window) 
You  wait  her  coming  as  an  angel's  there, 
And  you  shall  die  content,  Joff roy  Rudel ! 

SQUARCIAFICO  (just  entered). 
Then  you  are  not  Joff  roy  Rudel? 

BERTRAND. 

Not  1 1 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

The  devil  I  Then  my  hopes  have  come  to  naught ! 

BERTRAND. 

Your  hopes? 

SQUARCIAFICO, 

Why  yes.     You  landed  young  and  strong. 
And  so  I  thought :  'tis  he !    Our  fortune's  made ! 

BERTRAND. 

What  fortime? 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

Fortune?    Why !    I  thought :  here  comes 
That  poet  who  is  crazed  with  love  itself ! 
He  looks  the  victor.    He'll  be  sure  to  slay 
That  jailer,  and  he'll  marry  her  he  freed  1 

BERTRAND. 

What's  that? 


68  LA  PBINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  iv. 

SQUARCIAFICO, 

'Twas  perfect  so.    For  Manuel 
Detests  Venetians  all  and  Genoese. 
His  rule  established  here  would  ruin  us ! 
What  ask  we,  though,  but  peace  and  naught  for  us; 
To  let  the  city  go  as  heretofore ! 
A  poet  was  the  king  that  suited  us ! 
We  each  could  have  remained  in  our  spheres  I 
He  with  his  verse,  and  with  our  traffic  we  1 
'Twas  perfect !    On  the  throne  a  loving  pair 
Who  could  have  been  relieved  of  governing ! 
They  would  not  have,  with  zeal  intemperate, 
Prevented  us.  ,  •  . 

BERTRAND. 

From  dragging  many  nets  I 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

Well  ,  .  ,  ,  let  me  first  explain ! 

BERTRAND. 

I  understand. 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

Kudel  will  die.    His  trip  was  useless  then ! 

BERTRAND. 

'Twas  useless ! — Noble  strife  of  lofty  soul, 
Thou  shouldst  have  left  a  money  gain ! 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

Why,  yes! 

BERTRAND    (aSlde). 

Oh!  humble  mariners,  you  understood!  .... 
But  he,  this  vender,  last  among  the  last. 
With  sordid  brain,  compressed  and  mercantile, 
Debased  the  thought  and  made  it  practical ! 
However  pure  and  grand  may  be  a  deed, 
There  will  be  those  to  say :  the  profit's  where? 


ACT  III.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  69 

How  vile  forever  thus  to  count  and  smirch ! 

— Good  father  Trophime,  would  that  you  could  hear ! 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

To  think  that  Manuel,  whom  I  detest, 
Will  marry  soon.  .  .  . 

BERTRAND  {eagerly), 

I  warrant  you  he'll  not  I 
SQUARCIAFICO  {aside). 
Hallo  I 

BERTRAND. 

I  swear  that  this  barbarian 
Shall  not  possess  this  creature  frail  and  rare  I 

SQUARCIAFICO  {aside). 

He  might  consider  still  that  plan  of  mine. 

{aloud). 
Unfortunate  Rudel !    Untimely  death ! 

{Bertrand^  lost  in  thought,  does  not  seem  to  hear, 
Squarciafico  comes  nearer.) 
She  would  have  married  him ;  for  poets,  Franks, 
She  favoured  both.     And  both  was  he — like  you ! — 
This  voyage  too  was  of  untold  effect, ' 
— And,  by  the  way,  you  too  accomplished  it ! — 
He  dies,  though.    Such  is  fate !    So  passeth  man ; 
He  reapeth  ne'er  the  profit  of  his  deeds. 
He  reacheth  for  the  premium,  and  dies. 
— Success  has  ever  been  the  follower's. 

BERTRAND. 

That  mast !    Oh !  what  if  it  should  now  display 
The  deathly  signal !  .  .  .  . 

SQUARCIAFICO  {closer  to  him). 

Child!  untutored  child, 
Who  pleadeth  for  another— dead — and  could 
— So  easily !— advantage  one  who  lives ! 


70  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  iv. 

BERTRAND  (turning^  and  looking  at  him.    Squarcia- 
fico  falls  hack.) 
You  said? 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

Oh!  nothing. 

BERTRAND  {seizing  him  by  the  throat). 

Wretch ! 

SQUARCIAFICO  (freeing  himself). 

It's  beautiful 
To  see,  young  man,  how  you  receive  advice. 

BERTRAND. 

I'll  crush  you! 


SCENE  F. 

The  same,    melissinde,  sorismonde,  melissinde's  women-in- 
waiting  hearing  her  mantel^  her  diadem  and  her  sceptre. 

melissinde. 

What's  occurred? 

BERTRAND  (to  Squarciofico) . 

You  serpent  vile  I 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

A  serpent?    Good!    But  crushing's  dangerous! 

BERTRAND. 

I  loathe  the  reptile  that  will  sting  the  heel ! 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

Perhaps  what  I  will  sting  will  be  the  heart ! 

MELISSINDE  (advancing  with  a  quiver  of  anger). 
You  threaten  guest  of  mine,  deceitful  wretch ! 
Before  to-morrow  get  you  far  away ! 
If  you  are  found  in  Tripoli  by  morn, 
You  will  be  put  to  death  upon  a  cross ! 


ACT  m.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  71 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

I'm  banished !  .  .  .  .  Ruined !  .  .  .  . 

(To  Bertrand^. 

You !  .  .  .  .  Well,  wait  and  see  1 
Til  be  revenged ! 

{going  out)* 

The  Franks  are  ingrates,  all  I 

MELissiNDE  {to  Bertvand). 
You  see,  I  banished  him  because  of  you. 

BERTRAND. 

This  man  had.  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE. 

Yes.  .  .  .  had  made  your  anger  rise. 
Sufficient  that.    We'll  start  a  moment  hence. 
Be  pleased  to  see  if  all  is  ready  on 
My  galley.  .  .  .  Go.  ... 

{Bertrand  looks  at  her  a  moment  as  if  stunned^  then 
abruptly  leaves.) 


SCENE  VL 

MELISSINDE,  SORISMONDE,  the  Women  a  moment, 

MELISSINDE  (nervously,  to  Sorismonde). 

Now  give  my  diadem  I 
He's  seen  me  not,  and  surely  what  he  loves 
In  me's  the  Princess ! — So,  I'm  bound  to  be 
A  princess  with  the  sceptre  in  her  hand ! — 
My  sceptre  now ! — Alas !    How  weak  I  feel ! 

(She  tries  to  put  on  her  mantel,  but  returns  it  to  the 
women.) 
This  heavy  mantel's  torture !    Place  it  in  " 

My  galley.  ...  Go !    Be  quick  I— E'er  heavier 


72  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  vi. 

These  jewels  and  this  gold,  a  growing  weight ! — 
When  I  arrive,  I'll  wear  the  load  again ! 

(Exeunt  the  woman  with  the  insignia. To  Soris- 

monde,) 
Shall  I,  you  think,  be  forced  to  close  his  eyes? 

SORISMONDE. 

A  task  like  this  must  surely  try  your  nerves. 
You'd  better  send  a  doctor  and  a  priest ! 

MELISSINDE. 

You  settle  things  with  unconcernedness ! 
And  still  I  feel  a  dull  reluctance  to 
Proceed  t'ward  one  who's  in  the  grasp  of  death, 
Instead  of  keeping  here  the  other,  life ! 

SORISMONDE. 

Then,  Princess,  cast  away  ties  fanciful ! 

Remain,  and  grant  its  freedom  to  your  soul ! 

You  love  the  other  one?  .  .  .  .Well,  what  forbids?  .... 

MELISSINDE. 

I  love  the  other  one !  ....  I  show  it    True! 

SORISMONDE. 

Why  fear  this  love  that  should  be  joy  to  you? 
You're  quitting  dream,  and  you  re-enter  life ! 

MELISSINDE. 

The  sister  of  the  lilies,  then,  can  love 

The  first  who,  young  and  manly,  speaks  to  her !  .  .  .  . 

SORISMONDE. 

So  nature,  Princess,  often  claims  her  rights ! 

MELISSINDE. 

Because  she  held  a  while  his  lifeless  hands, 

And  gave  them  vigour  with  the  warmth  of  hers!  .  .  . 

SORISMONDE. 

And  then  because  his  brow's  a  noble  one. 


ACT  III.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  73 

MELISSINDE. 

Because  his  breath !  ....  Oh !  no  'twas  not  for  these ! 

It  was  because  I  took  him  for.  ...  I  dare, 

How  mad !  endeavour  to  deceive  myself, 

As  if  there  were  no  love  beguiling  me ! — 

Oh  I  when  with  tender  voice  he  spoke  the  name 

Of  him  for  whom  I  longed  despairingly, 

My  anxious  heart  by  wish  proclaimed  the  name 

And  speaker  one,  and  it  believed  its  wish ! 

SORISMONDE. 

Of  course. 

MELISSINDE. 

Oh !  once  how  glad  I  should  have  been 
To  have  my  dreamer  seek  his  princess  here ! 
And  now  he  comes,  the  prince  unfortunate, 
He  comes,  despite  the  perils  of  the  way, 
And  dies  of  it ;  while  she  for  whom  he  calls 
With  dying  breath  must  doubt  and  hesitate. 
And,  sorely  grieved,  endeavour  to  withdraw, 
Because  he  chose  too  well  his  messenger ! 

SORISMONDE. 

Just  so!  ...  . 

MELISSINDE. 

He  chose  too  well !    You  understand? — 
He's  dark,  but  still  at  times  his  voice  is  fair ; 
He's  haughty,  but  within  his  fearless  eye 
There  lurks  a  look  of  shyness  like  a  child's ! 
— Oh !    Love,  how  rapidly  you  felled  my  pride  I 

SORISMONDE. 

You  love  him.    Stay !    For  reason.  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE. 

stupid  is ! 
For  it  accepts  no  facts  but  normal  ones ; 
What's  right  is  faultless,  evil's  evil  through. 


74  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  vi. 

Still  are  there  mixtures  not  so  limpid  quite ! 
And  duplex  hearts,  yes,  most  distressingly ! 
The  one  who  was  forever  in  my  dreams, 
Who  dies  for  me,  I  love  and  pity  him ; 
But  I  adore  the  other !    And  it  seems 
As  if,  between  the  two,  my  soul  were  rent. 

SORISMONDE. 

Then  why  not  go  aboard,  to  show  yourself? 
And  afterward  you  can.  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE. 

A  compromise  I 
And  that's  what  reason  says !    Unworthy  craft ! 
The  issue  that's  implied  is  simply  this : 
Allow  Rudel  to  die  within  my  arms. 
And  then  return  consoled  by  his  friend ! 
Without  a  doubt,  the  world  would  so  advise. 
No,  no  I    I'll  do  no  act  that's  common-place ! 
For  me,  no  bliss  that's  bought  at  such  a  price! 
I  dreamed  of  love  sublime,  I'll  have  it  so, 
If  not  because  of  strange  mysticity, 
Then  through  the  pride  of  some  uncommon  crime! 

SORISMONDE. 

You're  seeking  now  some  new  subtlety. 

MELISSINDE. 

My  love  disclosed,  what  would  Bertrand  decide? 

SORISMONDE. 

I  understand, 

MELISSINDE. 

'Tis  what  is  tempting  me. 

SORISMONDE. 

To  vanquish  loyalty — that  may  resist? 


ACT  III.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  75 

MELISSINDE. 

You  have  it.    How  atrocious  a  success ! 

But  Where's  the  one  who  never  longed  for  this? 

What  woman  worthy  of  a  woman's  name? 

How  loved  the  man  we've  led  to  infamy 

And  must  console  in  his  devoted  guilt. 

O  man,  it  must  be  sweet  to  our  heart 

To  see  you,  by  some  baseness,  set  at  naught 

This  honour  that  you're  ever  speaking  of ! 

Who  never  longed  to  be,  as  I  would  now, 

The  evil  one  with  fascinating  eyes 

Who  causes  virtue's  haughty  march  to  stop, 

Not  quite  Delilah,  no,  but  Omphale? 

To  bind  a  hero  with  a  golden  hair ! 

Which  one  of  us,  indeed,  would  not  be  glad 

To  hold  in  thrall  Orestes,  if  he  knew 

That  Py lades  succumbs — and  still  remained? 


SCENE  VIL 

MELISSINDE,  BERTRAND. 

BERTRAND  (entering). 

Your  brilliant  galley's  ready  and  it  waits. 
Your  sailors.  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE  (to  herself). 

This  temptation's  horrible ! 
(Exit  Sorismonde,  who  has  been  slowly  withdrawing). 

BERTRAND. 

Why  do  you  stare  at  me  with  eyes  so  vague? 
Why  do  you  nervously  torment  your  rings? 

MELISSINDE. 

Perhaps  there  is  a  cause  that  may  prevent 
My  going  with  you  to.  .  .  . 


76  Lx\  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  vii. 

BERTRAND  (eagerly). 

No  cause  exists ! 

MELISSINDE. 

still  must  I  wait  a  while.    I'm  trembling,  see  I 
—Suppose  I  love  aleady? 

BERTRAND  {with  violencc). 
You  do  not ! 

MELISSINDE. 

He  said  it  well.— Such  is  the  truth,  alas ! 
I  love,  and  love  alone  retains  me  here. 

BERTRAND  (starting). 
You  love  another !  ....  Whom?    Til  kill  the  man! 

MELISSINDE. 

You'd  kill  him  not,  if  I  should  say  his  name. 

BERTRAND  (beside  himself). 
Oh !  speak  it ! 

MELISSINDE. 

Must  I? 

BERTRAND. 

Yes! 
MELISSINDE  (waUcifig  toward  him,  deeply  moved), 

I  shall  then. 

BERTRAND  (falling  hack  terrified). 

Stop! 
No,  speak  you  not  his  name!    Oh!  speak  it  not! 
For  if  it  is.  .  .  . 

(drawing  his  sword). 
I'll  slay  him  instantly ! 

MELISSINDE. 

Oh !  do  not  strike !    I  uttered  not  the  name  I 


ACT  III.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  77 

BERTRAND  {dropping  his  sword), 
A  felon  knight  am  I ! 

MELISSINDE. 

Your  honour's  safe! 

BERTRAND. 

It's  not !— For  in  my  heart's  a  burst  of  joy 

MELISSINDE. 

Then  proud  am  I  who  cause  your  felony  I 

BERTRAND. 

But,  oh!  how  can  I  rob  a  dymg  man? 

Oh !  go  to  him !    You  have  no  wicked  heart  I 

MELISSINDE. 

'Tis  why  I  do  not  go ;  for,  if  I  did, 

My  heart  would  mollify,  and  might  relapse 

Into  some  new,  absurd  and  noble  dream. 

How  could  I  meet  him  and  remain  unmoved? 

I  loved  him  long,  Bertrand,  you  comprehend.  .  .  . 

He  was — alas !    I  feel  it,  and  I  sigh ! — 

The  better  part  of  me — while  you're  the  worse ! 

So  that  I  can  be  yours,  be  thine,  ^  I  will 

Not  see  Bud  el !    I  will  not  go  to  him ! 

Unless,  perchance,  you  now  insist  again  I 

BERTRAND. 

I  know  not !  .  .  .  .    I  .  .  .  .    Rudel  ....    I  love  you  so ! 
— Oh !  turn  away  from  me  those  loving  eyes  I  .  .  .  . 
That  window  open  seaward  frightens  me. 

MELISSINDE  (ruYis  to  the  window^  closes  it  and  leans 
hack  against  it). 

Well,  now  it's  closed !  .  .  .  .    And  thou  art  mine  to  keep ! 


^Note. — Here,  and  through  the  remainder  of  this  Act,  there  is  an  intentional 
alternation  of  yoii  and  thou^  showing  when  Melissinde  and  Bertrand  are  carried 
away  by  passion,  or  reclaimed  by  reason.  Tliou  in  French  is  caressing,  indica- 
tire  of  intimacy  and  indulgent  affection.  With  what  art  this  thou  and  the  you 
are  used  successively  by  the  poet,  to  determine  varying  emotions,  will  be  easily 
perceived. 


78  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.       [scexXe  vii. 

It's  closed,  I  say,  and  shall  not  ope  again ! 
Now  let's  forget !    This  palace  is  a  world ! 

{She  goes  toward  Mm.) 
The  air  is  loaded  with  perfumes.    We'll  breaihe  I 
This  palace  be  our  home,  we'll  leave  it  ne'er ! 
Now  see  the  warmth  of  roses  on  the  floor 
Where  lilies  spread  their  coldness  in  the  morn ! 
— The  window's  closed,  I  say;  abolish  fear! — 
Pale  flowers  born  of  dream  are  now  foresworn ; 
Love  giveth  richer  blossoms.    Smile  thou  here ! 
We  shall  ignore  the  world.    How  should  we  know? 
We'll  question  nobody.    E'er  at  my  feet 
Thy  life.    And  naught  shall  be  but  our  embrace  I 
Why  should  we  feel  remorse,  or  even  fear? 
Who  ever  spoke  of  galleys,  of  Eudel? 
No  living  soul!    Naught's  true  but  our  love! 
Beyond  this  window  here,  the  golden  beach 
Extends  toward  the  blue ;  no  galley's  there  I 
Some  day,  far  off,  when  we  shall  open  it, 
The  window'  11  show  but  light,  and  nothing  more. 
And  then  we'll  laugh.    What  childish  story's  this 
About  the  hoisting  of  a  sail  that's  black? 
An  idle  tale,  Bertrand  !~The  window's  closed  !— 
Oh  I   think  of  naught,  beloved,  naught! 
Why  should  we  see,  call  up  most  awful  things 
Beyond  this  window?    See  how  calm  it  looks  1 
It  smiles  in  its  enamel  and  its  gold !  .  .  .  . 

BERTRAND. 

You  speak  forever  of  that  window  there! 

MELISSINDE. 

'Tis  false  I    I  see  it  not. — I  love  thee  so ! 

I  wish  to  speak  to  thee,  of  thee  alone 

How  grand  upon  thy  ample  collar  looks 
This  clasp.    Thou  hadst  it  from?  .... 

BERTRAND. 

Joffroy  Rudel. 


ACT  III.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  79 

MELISSINDE. 

Then  what?    Just  tear  it  off!  ...  . 


BERTRAND. 


Oh !  brother  dear, 


Your  jewels  did  the  deed ! 


MELISSINDE. 

To  capture  me 
Thouhadst  enough  in  doublet  made  of  brown, 
Both  soiled  and  torn  in  battle  or  by  sea, 
But  with  that  look  of  thine  adventure  gave ; 
Then,  for  a  clasp,  thy  neck  had  had  my  lips ! 
Oh !  start  not,  nor  withdraw  thy  pleading  eyes ! 
Thy  gaze  away  from  me  is  but  a  lie  I 
Thou  knowest  that.  .  .  . 

BERTRAND. 

Thy  voice  enraptures  me ! .  .  . 
(The  window  opens  suddenly,  as  if  a  gale  were  blowing. ) 

MELISSINDE. 

The  sea-wind's  blown  the  window  open,  look ! 


BERTRAND. 


The  window  open. 


•  •  • 


MELISSINDE. 
Close  it  I 


BERTRAND. 

No !— I  fear 
Too  much  I'd  see,  perhaps,  a  sail  that's  black  I 

MELISSINDE. 

Then  look  aside,  and  close  it  rapidly. 

BERTRAND. 

No,  no  I   I  feel  I'd  look  ahead  I 


80  LA  PKINCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  vii. 

MELissiNDE  (rises  to  go  to  the  window,  creeping  along 
the  wall). 

Avoid 
Approaching  from  the  front.  ,  .  ,  Obliquely,  so!  ...  . 
(As  she  nears  the  windotv,  she  hesitates,  dares  not 
close  it,  backs  sloivly,  still  hugging  the  wall,  and  falls  near 
Bert  rand,  upon  the  sofa,) 

This  place  is  good! ....    From  here  we  cannot  see  ... . 
And  now  let's  seek  the  depths  of  our  love, 
Wrapped  in  ourselves  as  are  all  happy  ones ! 

BERTRAND. 

Thou  saidst? .  .  .  • 

MELISSINDE. 

I  say  that  every  happiness, 
Behind  it,  has  an  open  window  so, 

Through  which  there  comes  a  breath  that  chills  the  soul. 
The  window's  ever  there  to  claim  its  own ! 
Men  turn  and  crouch.     They  will  not  go  to  look, 
For  they  would  see  stern  duty's  galley  there 
To  call  them  from  the  bliss  that  holds  them  fast ! 
Or  else,  if  fate  had  spoke,  they'd  see  reproach 
In  waving  folds  of  black  aloft,  remorse ! 
So  nestle  they  in  cushions,  motionless ; 
They  cling  to  happiness  and  to  the  dream 
That  one  look  through  the  window  would  destroy ! 
They  would  not  learn  if  they  are  murderers !  .  .  . 
Let's  do  the  same.  ...  in  coward  cushions'  ease ! 

{Sheputs  her  arms  around  him  and  they  remain*enclasped.) 

BERTRAND. 

Yes,  let  us  stay !    Alas !  poor  woman,  though. 
How  can  we  stay  ?    Have  I,  hast  thou  a  soul 
Debased  enough  to  leave  us  happy  thus? 
We're  surely  not  as  others  are ! 


ACT  lu.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  81 

MELISSINDE. 

We  are ! 
I  love  thee ! 

(Joyful  cries  are  heard  through  the  window,) 

BERTRAND  (astoTiished). 
What  is  that? 

MELISSINDE. 

Oh !  nothing,  noise 
Upon  the  terrace  where  the  pages  play. 

VOICES  (outside). 
One,  ,  .  .  three,  , ,  .  eight.  . .  .ten.  ,  .  , 

MELISSINDE. 

It's  nothing,  I  repeat. 
Just  listen ;  they  are  playing  knuckle-bones, 

VOICES. 

A  lovely  day ! 

BERTRAND. 

I  love  thee,  Melissinde, 
What  fairy  had  foreseen,  when  thou  wert  named, 
Thy  silken  hair,  the  sweetness  of  thy  lips? 

VOICES. 

The  sea  is  calm ! ,  ,  .  ,  Oh !  Oh !  .  .  .  ,  just  look, 

BERTRAND  (startled), 

OGodI 
They  point  at  what? 

MELISSINDE. 

Oh !  something  far-away  I 

VOICE, 

That  galley!  .  ,  .  .  Which? ,  ,  .  , 

BERTRAND, 

I  know  the  galley  meant  I 


82  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.       [scene  vii. 

MELISSINDE. 

Well,  do  not  listen! 

BERTRAND. 

I  cannot  resist  I 

MELISSINDE, 

Be  deaf.  ,  .  like  me! .  .  .  What  did  they  say? . .  . 
BERTRAND  (with  a  gesture  of  discouragement). 

Resist ! .  ,  • 

MELISSINDE. 

It's  not  the  only  galley ! ,  . .  .  Why  believe? .  ,  ,  , 

VOICE, 

And  now  they  hoist  a  sail !    Oh !  look !    It's  black !  .  .  *  . 
{Motion  by  Melissinde  and  Bertrand,) 

VOICE, 

I'm  going  down  toward  the  beach. — Come  on! 

(Noise  of  voices  and  steps  groiving  distant.  Ber- 
trand  and  Melissinde  dare  not  look  at  one  another ^  and  they 
slowly  draw  apart.    Long  silence.) 

MELISSINDE  (almost  in  a  whisper). 
They're  gone ! .  .  .  . 

BERTRAND. 

Yes,  gone! .  .  .  , 

(He  ahsentmindedly  picks  up  Melissinde'' s  scarf,  that 
had  remained  on  the  sofa,  and  carries  it  to  his  nostrils  J) 

This  perfume's  sweet,  indeed ! 
You  said,  a  while  ago,  that  it  is  .  .  .  .  what? 

MELISSINDE. 

What? ....  Amber. 


ACT  III.]  LA  PEINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  83 

BERTRAND. 

Oh ! .  ...  Your  scarf. ...  I  bear  it  to 
My  lips.    Your  scarf.  .  .  . 

{Falling  suddenly  icith  tei^rible  cries  and  sobs.) 

My  God !    Now  all  is  done ! 
He's  dead !  dead !  dead !    My  brother  and  my  friend ! 
All's  over !    Gone.  .  .  .  without  the  bliss  supreme 
He  sought  I .  .  .  .  and  I .  .  .  .  and  you.  •  •  .  what  have 
we  done? 

MELISSINDE. 

It's  awfull ....  But,  at  least,  I  have  you nowl 

BERTRAND. 

You  have  a  traitor !    Oh !  the  worthy  mate ! 

MELISSINDE. 

A  traitor  who  betrays  for  love  is  great  I 

BERTRAND. 

IVe  not  the  greatness  of  a  traitor  such  I 

I'm  not  the  hero  of  a  lordly  crime; 

I'm  but  the  child  who's  softened  by  the  breeze. 

The  feeble  heart  that  floats  along  in  life. 

With  innocent  betrayal  in  its  wake ! 

To  make  of  me  a  traitor's  easy,  yes ! .  .  .  . 

For  I  am  bound  to  go  where  impulse  leads. 

This  morn,  I  was  heroically  brave, 

And  now,  and  now !  .  .  .  .  I'm  slave  to  a  perfume  I 

I  am  the  moment's  thing.    I  know  myself ! 

You  say  you  have  me  now?    But  that  is  naught! 

You  have  the  breeze's  sigh,  a  poet's  breath, 

The  fleeting  waters  where  the  hour  smiles ! 

MELISSINDE. 

Bertrand,  remorse  deceives  you  here.  .  .  . 

BERTRAND. 

Remorse 
But  proves  that  I  belong  not  to  the  strong 


84  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scene  vii. 

Who,  when  a  crime's  committed,  make  it  yield  I 
Remorse  is  still  and  ever  weakness  mine ! 
No,  no !    Among  all  wretches  I'm  the  worst, 
For  good  or  evil,  I  cannot  conclude ! 
With  impulse,  promise  and  with  thrilling  voice, 
I  cannot  persevere,  I'm  never  free ! 

Devotion  such,  and  treason  at  the  end ! 

A  crime and  then  repentance  all  in  vain ! 

MELISSINDE. 

Bertrandl  .... 

BERTRAND. 

Oh !  mayest  thou,  though  tortured  too, 
Despise  me  now  as  I  despise  myself, 

0  thou  whose  art,  with  Circe's  subtlety, 
Hath  damned  me  for  a  fancy !  .  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE  (crushed). 

What!    He  took 
Me  for  a  woman  offering  her  love ! 
He  saw  not  that,  for  crime,  remorse  and  loss 
Of  honour,  there  was  compensation  in 
A  passion  broad  and  lofty  as  the  skies ! 
Oh !  dream  superb !....!  followed  it  alone !  .  .  .  . 
And  'tis  for  this  we  did  that  awful  deed  1 

BERTRAND  (beyond  himself). 

Through  her  this  ruin,  yes,  through  her !  .  .  .  . 
{Falling  to  his  knees  and  weeping.) 

No,  no! 

1  said  it  not !    Forgive  me !    Oh !  forgive ! 
The  deed  is  done,  and  I  must  have  thy  lips, 

I  must !    Thou  can'st  not  ween  me  from  them  now ! 
Thy  hair  for  my  remorse  must  be  a  shroud ! 
I  will,  I  can  no  more  remain  alone ! 

MELISSINDE. 

Too  late! Begone! How  small  thy  sentiments! 


ACTiu.]           LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  85 
And  'tis  for  this  we  did  the  awful  deed ! 


But  why  reproach  for  thee,  when  I  deceived 

Myself  e'en  more  than  1  deluded  thee  ? 

Oblivion  with  thee  was  not  supreme, 

For  I  remained  divided  still  within ! 

Alas !  my  anxious  soul,  say  where  and  how 

Will  ever  come  to  thee  satiety ! 

For  lasting  thirst  and  lasting  hunger  too, 

Where  is  the  bread,  and  where's  the  cooling  spring? 

BERTRAND. 

All's  done  I 

MELISSINDE. 

Yes,  done  I 

BERTRAND. 

O  Melissinde  I 

MELISSINDE. 

Bertrand  I 

BERTRAND. 

To  think  what  torture  must  have  been  his  death  I 
MELISSINDE  (going  to  the  window). 

Betrayed  and  dead !    Have  mercy !    No  revenge  1 
I'll  seek  thee  now  I 

{With  a  loud  cry.) 
Bertrand,  the  sail  is  white  I 

BERTRAND. 

Oh I    God! 

MELISSINDE. 

They  said.  ... 

BERTRAND  (who  has  goue  to  the  window  and  points 
to  the  offing). 

It  was  the  mournful  sail 
Upon  that  fading  ship  that  bears  away 


86  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.        [scs.ne  vii. 

The  body  of  the  Knight- Whose- Arms-are-Green ! 
But  see !    Our  galley  rides  at  anchor  still ! 
Its  sail  is  white ! 

MELISSINDE. 

Against  an  azure  sky ! 
^  As  white  as  hope  of  pardon !    Gracious  God, 
Prolong,  I  pray,  the  whiteness  of  the  sail 
In  which  I  see,  at  last,  my  star  supreme  ! 

0  duty,  voice  that  we  subdue  in  vain, 

1  come !    I  come  to  thee,  Joffroy  Rudel ! 
I  come  !    And  thou  art  dearer  to  me  now 
By  all  the  ill  I  nearly  did  to  thee ! 

(JSxit.) 
CURTAIN. 

END  OF  ACT  III. 


ACT  ir. 

Set  of  ACT  I. — Light  of  pink  and  gold  preceding  sunset. 
Joffroy  Rudel,  in  the  same  place,  on  his  stretcher,  in  the 
rear.  More  livid  than  in  the  morming,  his  eyes  straining 
toward  the  shore,  completely  motionless.  Nearby,  observing 
him,  Erasmus,  the  physician.  On  his  knees,  his  face  hidden 
in  his  hands,  at  the  foot  of  the  stretcher,  Father  Trophime. 
To  the  right  and  to  the  left,  the  sailors  greatly  excited 
against  Squarciafico,  who,  standing  in  the  centre,  with  his 
arms  folded,  bare  headed,  and  turned  toward  Joffroy 
Rudel,  is  concluding  his  explanations.  The  sailors  mur- 
mur. The  pilot  restrains  them  as  they  are  about  to  fall 
upon  Squarciafico, 


SCENE  I, 

JOFFROY  RUDEL,  FATHER  TROPHIME,  ERASMUS,  SQUARCIAFICO, 

the   SAILORS:   BRUNO,    BISTAGNE,    MARRIAS,    PEGOFAT, 

TROBALDO,    FRANCOIS,    ctC, 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

And  now  IVe  told  you  all !  ...  .   She  loves  him,  yes, 
She  loves  him !  ....   So,  delay  explains  itself ! 

THE  SAILORS. 

Enough !— A  gag ! 

{Joffroy  Rudel  looks  steadfastly  at  the  shore.     Not 
a  muscle  of  his  face  moves.) 

THE  SKIPPER  {to  the  sailors). 

Oh !  let  him  speak ! 


88  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [scene  i. 

THE   SAILORS. 

No,  no! 
The  coward  comes  to  kill  the  Prince !    Hell  not ! 

SQUARCiAFico,  (speaking  to  the  Prince), 
Your  friend  Bertrand.  .  .  . 

PEGOFAT. 

He  lies  1 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

The  Princess  too 

BRUNO. 

The  Princess  I    Never ! 

FRANCOIS. 

Falsehood  I 

THE  SKIPPER. 

Let  him  speak ! 
(Joffroy  Rvdel  has  not  moved.    He  still  gazes  at  the 
shore.) 

SQUARCIAFICO  {louder). 
The  felon  then.  ... 

BISTAGNE. 

Yourself ! 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

But  they're  insane ! 
Yes,  she  and  he,  good  Prince!    Oh!  hear  me,  please  I 
Your  heart  remains  in  sad  expectancy.  .  .  . 

ERASMUS. 

The  Prince,  dear  Sir,  can  understand  no  more. 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

What  torture,  though,  for  him  that  is  ashore 
To  know  that,  ere  he  died,  Eudel  was  told 
The  tale !    The  torture  treachery  deserves ! 


ACT  IV.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  89 

ERASMUS. 

The  Prince,  I  say,  can  neither  hear,  nor  speak. 
His  eyes  alone  retain  a  sign  of  life ! 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

But  he  should  learn.  .  .  . 

ERASMUS. 

He  hears  no  more. 

FATHER  TROPHIME  (With  eyesabove). 

Thank  Gk)d! 

SQUARCIAFICO  {to  the  skipper). 

Confusion !    But— suppose  this  hypocrite 

Should  dare  return,  then  weep,  and  bend  the  knee 

Before  the  corpse  of  him  that  he  betrayed, — 

You'd  tell  him  that  Rudel  rejected  him 

And  cursed  him,  having  heard  that  tale  of  mine? 

THE  SKIPPER  {to  the  sailors,  pointing  to  Squarcia- 
fico). 

This  man  is  yours— to  hang  him  if  you  will  I 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

To  hang I 

THE  SAILORS. 

To  death !    Blaspheming  liar  I 

PEGOFAT. 

No, 

The  Princess  never  could.  .  .  • 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

I  said.  .  •  • 

BRUNO. 

Be  Still  I 
"We'll  not  allow  the  Princess  to  be  smirched. 


90  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [scene  i. 

FRANCOIS. 

She'll  come ! 

BISTAGNE. 

Be  sure ! 

TROBALDO. 

We  have  the  promise  too 
Of  SirBertrand! 

SQUARCIAPICO. 

But  hear  me  first.  .  .  .  And  then.  .  .  . 

PEGOFAT. 

Oh !  you  must  have  some  weighty  interest 
To  make  you  lie  so ! 

SQUARCIAFigO. 

Lie !  .  .  .  .   What  lack  of  brains ! 

BRUNO. 

And  so  you  bring  to  us  distressing  news? 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

I  came.  .  .  . 

MARRIAS. 

You'd  crush  the  hope  we've  cherished  so? 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

I  came.  .  .  . 

FRANCOIS. 

To  say  to  those  whose  goal  is  She: 
You'll  see  her  not?  .... 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

But  wait.  .  .  . 

PEGOFAT. 

Your  malice  soils— 
The  one  we  idolize !  .  .  .  . 


ACT  IV.  J  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  91 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

I'm  opening 
Your  eyes  I 

TROBALDO. 

Suppose  we  wish  to  leave  them  closed  1 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

You're  dreamers  all ! 

JUAN. 

Suppose  we  wish  to  dream  i 

FRANCOIS. 

So  you'd  suppress  the  Princess  Far- A  way  I 

'Tis  well,  now  we'll  suspend  you  from  the  yard ! 

PEGOFAT. 

Let's  hew  his  neck  I 

BRUNO. 

Find  torture  that  is  slow  I 

FRANCOIS. 

We  cut  their  feet  off  first,  we  Catalans ! 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

Ahl    Ahl 

BISTAGNE. 

Tear  out  his  tongue. 

TROBALDO. 

His  nostrils  too  I 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

Do  not ! .  .  .  . 

PEGOFAT. 

Let's  do  as  Northern  sailors  do ! 
We'll  nail  his  hand  against  the  mast ;  for  this 
We'll  use  a  knife  inserted  through  the  palm ; 


92  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [scene  i. 

Then  he  himself,  beneath  the  lash,  shall  draw 
Away  his  hand,  most  gently,  oping  it 
Between  the  fingers ! 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

I!  .  .  .  .  my  hand! ....  Relent! .  .  .  . 
PEGOFAT  {quietly). 
A  bit  of  hand  is  sometimes  left  behind ! 

SQUARCIAFICO  (resisting). 
But  I'm  a  Genoese ! .  .  .  . 

(All  the  sailors  stand  aside.) 

BRUNO. 

Hey! 

FRANCOIS. 

Oh! 

BISTAGNE. 


The  deuce ! 


PEGOFAT. 


Commit  no  act  that's  irretrievable! 
....  My  lord's  a  Genoese  I 

(They  all  bow  to  Squarciaflco.) 

SQUARCIAFICO  (quieted  and  chafing). 
From  Genoa  I 
(Looks  around  with  assurance,  while  they  all  bow 
again  to  him*) 

BRUNO  (erect). 

So  then,  of  course.  .  .  . 

(Changing  suddenly  his  manner,  and  seizing  Squar- 
ciaflco by  the  collar.) 

I  do  not  care  a  snap ! 

SQUARCIAFICO  (bewildered). 
How? .... 


ACT  IV.]  LA  PKINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  93 

FRANCOIS  {pushing  him  toward  the  gunwale). 
Overboard.  .  .  .  and  swim  to  Grenoa  1 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

Assist  me ! 

FATHER  TROPHiME  {running  up  to  the  sailors). 
Stop !    Enough ! 

PEGOFAT. 

Your  prayer  is  vain. 
He's  not  sewed  in  a  bag,  and  he  can  swim ! 

SQUARCIAFICO  {clinging  to  the  gunwale), 
I've  money.  .  .  . 

THE  SAILORS. 

Overboard ! 

SQUARCIAFICO. 

X    •     .     .     • 

MARRIAS. 

Here  he  goes  I 
{Squarciafico  is  thrown  overboard,) 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

What  have  you  done? 

BRUNO. 

We've  drowned  his  budding  youth. 

FRANCOIS  {to  Father  Trophime). 
The  wicked  thirst  for  water,  mind !  .  .  .  . 

VOICE  OF  SQUARCIAFICO  {jeering,  outside), 

I  swim ! 

BISTAGNE. 

You  do?    Then  wait! 

{He  takes  a  bow,  bends  it  and  aims,) 


94  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [scene  i. 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

No ! no ! 
THE  SAILORS. 

Yes,  take  good  aim ! 
{Everybody  to  the  rights  leaning  over  the  gumcale 
to  watch  Squarciafico.    Erasmus  alone  remains  by  Jojfroy 
Rudely  who  has  taken  notice  of  nothing.) 

ERASMUS. 

The  Prince !    Behold !    A  change  comes  over  him. 

{All  turn  and  watch  Joffroy   Rudel   who   slowly 
raises  his  hand  and  points  to  something  in  the  distance.) 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

What  is  he  looking  at? 

PEGOFAT. 

He  points  to  it  I 

BRUNO. 

Why,   yes  I    He's  right!    Just  seel    There's   something 
pink! 
And  gold !    It  comes ! 

FRANCOIS. 

He's  right,  for  we  can  see 
A  gardenful  of  flowers  floating  here. 

{Sound  of  distant  music.) 

BISTAGNE. 

Hurrah !    The  Genoese  perversely  lied ! 

No  doubt  of  it !  .  .  .  .  There's  music ! ....  It  is  She !  .  .  . 

PEGOFAT. 

A  galley  like  the  sun,  with  rays  of  gold ! 

BRUNO  {running  around  as  if  mad,  and  jostling 
everybody). 
'Tis  She !    I  teil  you  that  it's  She !    You  hear  ? 

{The  sailors  climb  upon  the  gunwale,  into  the  rig- 
ging, upon  the  yards,  and  wave  their  caps.) 


ACT  IV.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  95 

FATHER  TROPHIME  {falling  to  his  knees). 

Be  thanked,  O  Lord !  for  not  permitting  that 
This  soul  be  called  before  its  joy  arrives ! 

(Music  becomes  more  distinct.) 

PEGOFAT. 

She  comes!    The  ensign  is  of  purple !    Seel 

BRUNO. 

The  sail  of  silk  is  pink ! 

FRANCOIS. 

The  rigging  all 
Entwined  with  flowers ! 

BISTAGNE. 

Never  galley  such  I 
A  little  hanging  garden  is  the  top  I 

TROBALDO. 

A  thrilling  sound  of  violas !    Listen  I 

BRUNO. 

Look! 
The  oars  themselves  are  wound  with  garlands ! 

PEGOFAT. 

Yes, 

And  every  time  their  blades  are  swept  ahead, 
The  wave  is  strewn  with  petals  floating  bright! 

THE  SAILORS. 

You  see  the  Princess?— Yes,  'tis  She!— She  stands 
Beneath  a  crimson  awning  bright  as  day ! 

JUAN. 

How  beautiful! 

THE  SKIPPER. 

The  galley  glides  along 
With  gorgeous  Persian  fabrics  trailing  aft ! 


96  LA  PEINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  [soeuk  i. 

ERASMUS. 

With  triangle,  and  lute,  and  psaltery  I 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

The  Queen  of  Shebal 

MARRIAS. 

Shout!    Hurrah!    Hurrah! 
ALL  (waving  their  arms). 

Hail,  Melissinde !  .  .  .  .  The  Princess,  hail !    Hurrah ! 
The  Princess!— Hail! 

ERASMUS. 

What  is  it  now  that  moves 
Within  my  throat? 
(He  shouts.) 

Hurrah ! 
(Turning  toward  Father  Trophime.) 
I  shouted  too ! 

FATHER  TROPHIME  (shaking  him  by  the  hand). 
And  like  them,  too,  you  shed  a  tear  for  joy ! 

THE  SKIPPER. 

Make  ready  for  the  galley  there  to  port ! 
Cut  down  the  bulwark,  so  the  fairy  pass ! 

(With  axes  they  broaden  the  opening  in  the  bulwark.) 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

The  Prince !    His  mantle !    Quick !    He  must  be  robed ! 
Let's  move  him  further,  so  that  Melissinde 
Can  be  prepared  for  such  a  sight.    Poor  Prince, 
His  eyes  are  glassy,  and  his  nose  is  pinched  1 

THE  SKIPPER. 

She  comes! 

PEGOFAT. 

Our  jackets  now  beneath  her  feet ! 
(They  make  a  path  for  her  on  the  deck  with  the  torn 
garments  they  take  from  their  shoulders.) 


ACT  IV.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  97 

Be  silent ! — Stand  aside !— She  1 — Do  not  push  I 

Upon  your  knees ! 

(Complete  silence.  Music  ceases.  The  galley  stops 
alongside  tvith  its  fumes  of  burning  censers.  Melissinde 
appears^  and,  on  the  point  of  stepping  aboard  the  prince's 
galley^  remains  a  moment  motionless.) 

ONE  OF  THE  SAILORS   (SOftly). 

The  Holy  Virgin !— She ! 
(Tivo  Saracen  slaves  advance  to  unroll  before  Me- 
lissinde a  strip  of  rich  carpet.    She  stops  them  by  a  wave  ef 
the  hand  and  then  speaks  in  tremulous  tones.) 


SCENE  IL 

The  Same,    melissinde,  sorismonde,  women,    children, 
SLAVES,  etc.,  then  bertrand. 

melissinde. 

No !  I  prefer  to  tread  these  noble  rags ! 

(She  advances  slowly,  looking  around  her,  as- 
tounded. The  women  place  themselves  in  the  rear  noise- 
lessly. The  musicians  remain  in  Melessinde's  galley.  Eras- 
mus and  Trophime  stand,  concealing  him,  before  Rudely  who 
seems  to  have  fainted  and  whose  eyes  are  closed.) 

melissinde  (overcome  by  what  she  sees). 

This  galley  and  this  weeping  crew !    A  dream ! 
And  all  these  people  here  upon  their  knees ! 
I  never  dreamt  how  sorely  they  were  tried  1 

(To  the  sailoi's.) 
My  friends  I  .... 

PEGOFAT. 

'Twas  She  who  spoke  the  words,  'twas  She ! 
melissinde  (advancing). 
So  many  suffering,  in  tatters,  wan  I 


98  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAlNE.         [scene  ll. 

And  joy  illuminates  their  weary  eyes 
Through  me  I— And  I'm  relief !— My  heart  is  rent  I — 
How  could  I  know,  and  how  could  I  be  moved 
Like  this,  although  Bertrand  described  their  woe? 
Be  told.  ...  is  naught !    To  go  and  see  is  right ! 

{Shuddering  in  spite  of  her  efforts.) 
But  he.  .  .  .  Joffroy  Rudel?  .... 

FATHER  TROPHiME  (fo  MeUssinde). 

Be  stout  of  heart  I 
le's  very  low— remember— and  his  face.  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE. 

His  face,  indeed !  ....  Then  111  control  myself ! 

FATHER   TROPHIME  {standing  aside  and    drawing 
away  Erasmus). 

Approach  then.  ... 

MELISSINDE  {perceiving  Rudel). 

Gracious  God ! 
{She  falls  upon  her  knees,  sobbing.) 

For  me !  .  .  .  For  me !  .  . . 
{She  weeps  silently.  RudeVs  eyes  open,  notice  her, 
grow  larger  and  full  of  light,  while  a  smile  comes  over  his 
lips.) 

ERASMUS. 

Observe  I 

MELISSINDE. 

•^    He  smiles ! . . .  Oh !  blessed  smile ! ...  To  think 

To  think  I  came  so  near  not  seeing  it ! 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

You  see,  we  dressed  him  in  his  princely  robes. 

He  doubted  not  one  moment  that  you'd  come. 

He  neither  hears  nor  speaks.    His  eyes— we  feared.  .  .  . 

But  he  descried  you  coming,  first  of  all ! 


ACT  IV.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  99 

MELissiNDE  {still  ou  her  knees  looking  at  him). 
And  during  my  delay  he  doubted  not? 

PEGOFAT. 

No,  Princess,  no! 

BRUNO. 

No  more,  in  truth,  did  we  I 

MELISSINDE. 

No  more  did  you ! 

THE  SKIPPER. 

Keep  quiet,  silent,  men! 

FRANCOIS  {forcibly). 
Not  even  when  that  Genoese  had  said.  .  •  . 

MELISSINDE  (terrified). 
The  Genoese ! . .  .  And  here !  .  .  . 

BERTRAND  {who  just  before  appeared  on  the  deck). 

The  wretch !  . . .  You  should ! . . 

FATHER  TROPHIME,  {to  Melissiude), 
He  could  not  hear. 

JOFFROY  RUDEL  (faintly), 
I  did, — I  heard  it  all. 

MELISSINDE  (joining  her  hands). 

Great  God!     What  did,  what  could  you  think?     Oh! 
shame ! 

JOFFROY  (softly). 

I  thought :    What  wicked  stories  madmen  tell ! 
But  not  a  word  spoke  I,  or  muttered  e'en ! 
For  you  were  coming,  see !    Then  would  I  not 
—Since  every  word  of  mine  is  numbered  now — 
Have  wasted  even  one,  for  they  were  yours! 


100  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  ii. 

MELISSINDE. 

Good  God  I 

JOFFROY. 

I  would  not  listen  to  the  man! 
For  I  was  looking  over  there.    I  felt 
That  I  should  look,  and  look,  unceasingly. 
That  such  a  gaze  was  strong  in  mute  appeal, 
>{  And  that  its  fixity,  unswerving  faith, 
Would  draw  you  to  me  irresistibly, 
E'en  had  you  been  the  victim  of  a  spell  I 

JilELISSINDE. 

Dear  Prince  I 

JOFFROY. 

And  so,  you  see  it  now,  you  came  I 
(He  notices  Bertrand.) 
Bertrand,  my  thanks !    Your  hand ! 

{Bertrand,  urged   by  Father  Trophime,  advances 
and,  greatly  moved,  places  his  hand  in  RudeVs.) 

Thought  you  that  I 
Could  ever,  on  the  word  of  such  a  wretch, 
Suspect  one  moment  heart  so  dear  as  yours? 
(Bertrand  kisses  RudeVs  hand.) 

MELISSINDE, 

Your  noble  faith.  .  .  . 

JOFFROY. 

Now  meets  with  due  reward  I 
You're  here— and  now  my  dream  is  realised !  .  .  .  . 

(Smiling.) 
The  Princess  came !    All  hail !  my  Princess,  hail  1 
(He  closes  his  eyes,  exhausted.) 

ERASMUS. 

One  moment. — He's  exhausted — He'll  revive  I 


ACT  IV.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOIN^TAlliN^.  lt)i 

BERTRAND  {low  to  Father  Trophime), 
I  cannot  more !    I  choke !    Ill  tell  him  all !  ...  . 


FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Do  not,  my  son ! 

{To  Bertrand  who  hangs  his  head.) 
You  think  too  much  of  self! 
You  would,  by  coward  words,  relieve  your  heart, 
But  trouble  thus  for  naught  this  hour  last ! 
Be  silent,  so  that  he  shall  die  in  peace ! 

BERTRAND. 

But  soon  he'll  learn  how  I  deceived  him ! 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Then, 
His  soul,  rejoicing  in  eternal  calm. 
Will  be  indulgent,  full  of  Christian  love. 
On  seeing  how  your  soul,  my  son,  is  racked. 

MELISSTNDE. 

My  God,  oh i  let  him  hear!    Ill  answer  now 
His  noble  faith,  and  really  live  his  dream  I 
Belief  in  flowers  may  engender  them : 
The  woman  he  believed  me  I  shall  be ! 
In  expiation,  I  must  sweeten  death 
For  him,  whate'er  to  me  the  effort  cost ! 
By  grace  of  mine  the  stricken  poet  must, 
Without  a  pang,  depart  from  anxious  life. 
And,  in  the  gladness  of  a  loving  smile. 
Pass  softly  into  night  where  flesh  is  lost  I 
— Let  beauty  screen  time's  last  brutality. 
And,  when  he  opes  his  eyes,  let  petals  rain, 
While  perfumes  rise  in  vapours  light  and  blue. 
And,  harps  are  singing  'neath  the  harpers'  touch  I 
—Our  love  was  pure.    Oh !  music,  add  to  it 
A  chaste  delight  of  rapture  physical ! 

ERASMUS. 

The  Prince  is  waking.  .  .  . 


102  L'A- PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  ii. 

MEUSSINDE  (leaning  over  him). 

Prince  Joff roy  Rudel !  .  .  .  . 

JOFFROY. 

It  was  no  dream. 


•  •  • 


MELISSINDE. 

You  called  me,  I  am  here !  .  .  .  . 
Your  lasting,  faithful  love  was  known  to  me, 
I  heard  it  oft  in  many  stanzas  sung 
By  pilgrims  and  by  jugglers  passing  by ! 
Thus  were  you  like  the  palm  whose  flowers  are 
To  other  flowers  blooming  far  away 
Betrothed ;  and,  by  every  gentle  breeze, 
Your  thoughts  were  wafted  lovingly  to  mine ! 
The  tears  you  wept  at  eve,  for  all  in  vain, 
Impressed  my  soul  and  trickled  down  my  hands  I 
But,  since  you  wish  to  know  the  heart  unknown, 
Since  you  have  called  me,  Prince,  to  day  I've  come. 
And  I  have  come,  you  see,  O  cherished  friend, 
With  censers  swinging,  as  was  truly  meet. 
With  cypress,  sandal  and  with  rose  perfume. 
While  merry  rings  the  sweet  Tortosa  bell, 
And  softly  quiver  lute  and  psaltery ; 
For  now  has  come,  at  last,  our  wedding  day  I 

JOFFROY  (dazzled). 
In  joy  like  this,  where  is  the  certainty? 

MELISSINDE. 

What  think  you  of  the  Princess  Far- Away? 

JOFFROY. 

I  gaze  at  her.  .  .  bewitched !  .  .  .    My  every  thought ! 

She's  as  I  wished  her,  and  her  flowing  hair 

From  out  the  twister  comes  in  double  wave ; 

The  sun,  my  last,  illuminates  her  ring ! 

Beware  those  jewel's  weight,  O  slender  neck ! 

Her  smile,  so  new,  is  a  familiar  one ! 


ACT  IV.]  LA  PMNCEBSE  LOINTAINE.  103 

'    Her  voice,  the  music  of  a  gushing  spring, 
Is  like  a  cooling  draught  to  parched  lips. 
And  in  her  wondrous  eyes,  her  azure  eyes 
So  deep,  I'm  lost  as  in  the  infinite  I 

MELissiNDE  {slipping  her  ring  upon  his  finger). 

So,  let  your  finger  bear  this  amethyst ; 
The  colour  suits  our  melancholy  bliss. 

{Placing  her  collar  around  his  neck-) 
And  here  is  my  heraldic  collar  now, 

{Loosing  her  hair  over  him.) 
And  here's  my  hair,  for,  like  a  Jason  new, 
You've  pined  and  suffered,  and  youVe  struggled  for 
The  prize  you  coveted :  this  Golden  Fleece ! 
O  pilgrim  striving  t'ward  the  goal  of  love, 
Here  are  the  hands  you  sang,  these  hands  of  mine ! 
And,  since  you  thirst  to  hear  it — listen  now — 
Here  is  my  tender  and  devoted  voice !  .  .  .  . 

JOFFROY. 

Oh !  fear  you  not  my  eyes  of  gray  and  glass? 

MELISSINDE. 

And  now  you  have  my  lips  upon  your  eyes  I 

JOFFROY. 

Oh !  fear  you  not  these  lips  that  fever  burns? 

MELISSINDE. 

VAnd  now  you  have  my  lips  upon  your  lips ! 

{Silence.) 

JOFFROY  {calling). 
Bertrand ! 

{Bertrand  comes  up.     Joffroy  speaks  to  Melissinde^ 
pointing  to  the  sailors  kneeling  around  him.) 
I  meant  to  tell  you  here,  to-day, 
The  heart  these  people  have.  .  . 

{Weakening,  to  Bertrand.) 
you  tell  her,  you. 


104  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  ii. 

BERTRAND  (standing,  the  sailors  around  him  kneeling). 
Could  you  but  know,  beneath  their  ruggedness, 
These  childlike  souls,  spontaneous  and  frank ! 
Oh !  love  you  these  obscure  and  fervent  men,  ^ 
Devoted  ones  who  bore  the  dreamer  on ! 
As  do  the  purple  thistles  on  the  coast, 
Beneath  their  prickles  they  have  azure  hearts  I  .  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE. 

My  warmest  smile  to  them! 

JOFFROY. 

I'm  cold  I 

MELISSINDE. 

Joffroy, 
You're  in  my  arms,  enclasped.  ... 

JOFFROY. 

I'm  warm  again, 
But  anguish  shakes  me  with  an  awful  chill. 
You're  here?  .... 

MELISSINDE. 

I  hold  you  close,  I'm  rocking  you 
As  if  you  were  a  babe. 

JOFFROY. 

I  fear  no  more. 

MELISSINDE. 

^  Your  thoughts  to  our  love  and  to  the  height, 
Among  all  lovers,  we  must  reach !    Oh !  think 
That  I  am  here  and  that  I'm  Melissinde ! 
Now  say  again  how  much  and  how  we  love  I 

JOFFROY. 

I'm  dying!  .... 

MELISSINDE. 

See  these  pearls  around  my  neck ! 


ACT  IV.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  105 


JOFFROY. 


Your  neck  divine !  .  .  .  .  But.  ...  all  is  vanishing.  .  .   . 
I  feel I'm  going.  .  .  . 


MELISSINDE. 


No !  My  dress,  catch  hold 
Of  it,  and  cling  to  me  beneath  my  hair. 

JOFFROY. 

Your  hair !    Yes,  yes !    I  want  your  hair  again  I 
I'm  in  its  sweet  perfume.  .  .  .  I'm.  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE  (to  Father  Trophime), 

Saintly  priest, 
It's  time,  alas!  for  you  to  speak,  perhaps? 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

No.    Love  is  holy.    'Tis  a  gift  of  God, 
And  those  who  die  of  love  are  surely  saved. 

MELISSINDE. 

Joff roy  Rudel,  our  love  was  beautiful ! 
X  Our  souls  alone  have  met  and  joined  their  wings ! 

JOFFROY. 

Your  mantle  is  in  stones  and  orphreys  rich. 
I'll  touch  it.     Oh !  my  hand's  already  cold ; 
My  fingers  miss  the  orphreys  and  the  stones. 
They  are  already  dead !  .  .  .  . 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Recite  the  prayers. 
{A  II  in  a  group  around  him.) 
Proficiscere  anima. 

(The  prayer  is  murmured  by  those  around  him.) 

JOFFROY. 

I  die  I 


106  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  ii. 

MELissiNDE  {to  miisicians). 

Let  harps  relieve  the  sadness  of  the  chant ! 

{Slow  music*) 

JOFFROY. 

speak  on  I  Your  voice  is  music  that's  divine, 
The  one  to  which  I  yearned  to  die ! 

MELISSINDE  {holding  him  in  her  arms), 

I  love  you  I 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Deus  Clemens.  ... 

{Harp   music  through    which    the   muttering    of 
prayer  is  faintly  heard.) 

JOFFROY. 

Speak  on !    I  would  not  hear 
The  coming,  coming,  stealthy  step,  the  step.  .  .  . 
Speak  on,  and  I  will  die  without  a  groan  I 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Libera,  Domine.  ... 

{Prayers  and  harps,) 

MELISSINDE. 

At  eve,  dear  friend, 
Among  the  terebinths,  I  dreamt  of  you ; 
Then,  through  the  bluish  myrtles  when  I  went, 
At  morn,  and,  pensive,  'neath  their  branches  sat, 
I  held  with  you  sweet  converse  secretly. 

JOFFROY. 

Speak  on ! 

FATHER  TRGPHIIVIE. 

...  .ex  omnibus  periculis.  .  .  . 

MELISSINDE. 

And,  later,  with  the  lilies  tall  and  slim, 

When  one  of  them  would  bend  and  seem  to  nod, 


ACT  IV.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  107 

As  it  alone  was  worthy  to  receive 
'^  The  secret  of  our  royal  love  so  white.  .  •  . 
I  told  the  trembling  lily  whom  I  love ! 

JOFFROY. 

Speak  on !  Your  voice  is  harmony  itself. 
Speak  on ! 

ItfELISSINDE. 

I  told  the  lily  whom  I  love  I 

JOFFROY. 

Now  can  I  die.  .  .  .my  cup  of  bliss  is  full! 
Be  thanked,  O  Lord!    Be  thanked,  O  Melissindel 
A  How  many  sink,  exhausted,  by  the  road. 
And  never  see  their  Princess  Far- A  way  I  ...  * 

MELissiNDE  (rocMng  him  in  her  arms). 

'^  How  many  see  her,  though,  too  soon,  too  long, 

And  die  but  after  disenchanting  days  1 

To  sail  no  sooner  landed's  better  than 

To  see  decay  mar  freshness  on  the  shore  I 

There's  rapture  for  you  in  my  arms,  because 

There's  still  a  Stranger  in  the  Sister  here ! 

You'll  not  have  known  the  wasting  sadness  of 

The  idol  grown  a  mere  familiar  thing  I 
^  There's  in  me  still  that  far-away  you  loved. 

And,  though  your  eyes  must  close  to  ope  no  more, 

You'll  see  me  ever  in  my  shadeless  light, 

As  if  'twere  always  time  the  first,  the  first ! 

JOFFROY. 

The  Princess  came !    My  Princess,  now  farewell ! 

FATHER  TROPHIME. 

Libera,  Domine.  .  .  . 


108  LA  PRINOESSE  LOINTAINE.         [scene  ii. 

MELissiNDE  (standing,  and  holding  Joffroy,  in  her 
arms,  toward  the  dazzliyig  splendour  of  the  sea. 
She  and  he  seem  to  be  enveloped  in  the  gorgeous- 
ness  of  sunset.) 

The  sky's  aglow ! 

Behold !    A  prince's  and  a  poet's  death 

Is  yours,  with  head  at  rest  as  dream  foretold, 

In  love,  in  grace  and  majesty  supreme! 

You  die  with  heaven's  blessing,  undistressed 

By  trappings  and  by  sights  funereal ; 

In  flowers'  fragrance  and  in  harmony, 

A  death  that's  spared  all  pain  and  bitterness, 

(Joffroy  RudeVs  head  falls  to  one  side;  he  is  dead. 
Melissinde  lays  him  gently  down.  Father  Trophime  comes 
up.) 

Close  not  his  eyes ;  he's  gazing  at  me  still ! 

SORISMONDE  (terrified). 
His  hands  are  locked  around  your  hair! 

MELISSINDE. 

It's  his! 
(With  a  dagger  that  she  takes  from  Joffroy'' s  belt, 
she  cuts  her  hair,  that  remains  in  the  hands  of  Budel,    The 
hair  falls  across  his  body.) 

EERTRAND. 

Not  that !    It  is  too  much ! 

MELISSINDE  (without  turning  toivard  Bertrand), 

Who  spoke? 

BERTRAND. 

Too  much ! 

MELISSINDE. 

'Twas  you,  Bertrand?    We  must  forswear  ourselves! 
No  thread  is  left  of  the  deceptive  vail. 
My  soul  at  last  was  sister  to  a  soul, 
And  I  am  different.    The  good  I've  done 


a:ct  IV.]  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.         .  109 

Already  shows  its  marvellous  effect ! 
What's  dream,  or  love,  or  flower  red  or  white, 
By  gorgeous  Spring,  the  spring  of  abnegation? 
To  live  henceforth  in  an  eternal  Spring, 
I  will  repair  to  where  Mount  Carmel  is. 

BERTRAND. 

Alas! 

MELissiNDE  {to  the  sailors). 

Your  task,  good  sailors,  endeth  here. 
But  why  these  rags,  and  why  this  famished  look? 
You  shall  have  bread,  and  rest  and  clothing  too ! 

(Tearing  precious  stones  from  off  her  mantle,) 
But  I  have  sapphires  here !    And  rubies  here ! 
I'll  tear  from  me  this  weight  of  trinkets  vain ! 
Pick  up  the  gems !    They're  not  a  payment.    No, 
Good  friends,  the  pay  for  your  devotion  is 
The  grateful  love  the  Princess  bears  you  all  I 
And  here  are  beryls,  here  are  opals  too ! 
And  with  these  stones  I  cast  to  you  my  heart ! 
A  rain  of  diamonds,  and  a  snow  of  pearls !  .  .  .  • 
Ah !  now  this  mantle's  grown  divinely  light  I 

BERTRAND. 

And  I  henceforward?  .... 

MELISSINDE. 

You?    Enroll  these  men, 
And  battle  for  the  Cross ! 

THE  SAILORS  (brandishing  their  weapons). 
The  Cross !    We're  yours  I 

THE  SKIPPER. 

To-morrow  we  will  burn  the  goodly  craft 
That  bore  the  poet  on. 

TROBALDO  (pointing  to  Bertrand), 
Then,  bid  the  chief ! 


^^^  LA  PRINCESSE  LOINTAINE.  ^^  ^^'^ 

BERTRAND. 

We'll  reach  the  Tomb,  and  there  we'll  cull  the  Palm! 
MELissiNDE  (backing  toward  her  galley). 

Farewell !    No  tears— I  go  to  holy  peace ! 
I've  learnt  at  last  what  bliss  essential  is ! 

FATHER  TROPHIME  (kneeling  by  Joffroy^s  body). 
Undying  love  is  work  for  Heaven  done  1 


CURTAIN, 


Concluded,  New  York,  3rd  May,  1899. 


FOURTEEN  DAY  USE 

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T.r>  91-1  onwj  9  'pjf^                                        General  Library 

YB  54894 


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